Then to Now Part II: Dean and Grace's Story
by holdeverysong
Summary: Follow Dean and Grace from age sixteen to present time.  DeanXGrace, mention of SamXPage, SamXJess, DeanXPage.
1. Ordinary World

I'd never led a simple life. At age four, I'd lost my dad in a boating accident. And my mom was never the same. I had to grow up and take care of her on my own at that age, because she was brought to the point in her depression where she just wasn't sane anymore. She passed away when I was thirteen, and I went to live with my uncle Bobby Singer. And that's when I got into hunting. Across the street from Uncle Bobby's Salvage Yard was Harvelle's Roadhouse, which was a but of a sanctuary for hunters. No, not your average deer and bear hunters. I learned to hunt demons and spirits—from the best hunters in the world, too. And that was when I met John Winchester. For all intents and purposes, he became my mentor; my teacher. Essentially a father figure. Took me under his wing at the age of fifteen, and taught me everything he knew about hunting. And I learned quickly. I dropped out of school at fourteen and started to teach myself out of books and from my uncle and John's friends. So, maybe I wasn't the smartest woman in the world, but I certainly knew how to protect myself against an evil spirit. I don't know how many fourteen year olds could say that.

John was pretty much my hero in every way. Strong and smart, and god did he adore his two sons. Little Sammy and Dean. He wanted them to grow up and be hunters and...I had yet to meet them. But when I was sixteen, I got a call from John, telling me that Dean and I were supposed to be partners. That he'd left Sam with the neighbor family...the Fabrizzio's or something. That I was supposed to go from being partners with John—the most experienced hunter I had ever met, in my life, to his son, since John was 'previously indisposed.' And while I was nervous, he said that if I was with Dean, I was in capable hands. I knew that John would never guide me into a situation that I couldn't handle, so I went along with what he told me to do, driving to the place he'd told me to meet up with Dean in the bright blue, '69 Mustang that my Uncle Bobby had fixed for me. I caught a glimpse of him and stifled a laugh. He was standing there with a confused look on his face. I smirked and shook my head. Not at all what I'd expected when John described him to me, I'll admit that right away. I pulled up to the curb and turned off the engine, then got out of the car slowly. "Dean Winchester?"

He turned his head, and...up close? Holy shit, he was gorgeous. Though he was sort of acne-faced. But at sixteen, that was normal. He had these beautiful green eyes that were just...easy to get yourself lost in. I reminded myself to be careful as he showed me a skeptical glance. "Who's asking?"

I chuckled. At least he'd learned the first lesson that John had taught me. Do not give out your real name unless you're totally sure who you're talking to. I approached him and extended a hand. "Grace Desrosiers..." I told him, a smile crossing my face as he dropped one of his bags and accepted my hand.

He used his other arm to throw his duffel bag even farther over his shoulder. He gave me a strange look, like he expected me to look or be different, and I smiled at him. That was a common reaction among hunters. They saw me, that I was a woman and that I wasn't six-foot-four, leggy and a Buffy the Vampire Slayer clone, and they automatically thought that I couldn't be a hunter. Not John, though. He always had so much faith in me. "You're Grace?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. I'm Grace. And if you're going to be like that, you can explain to your father why you're still sitting on an Iowa sidewalk tomorrow morning..." I told him, crossing my arms. "However, if you're going to be human about this? The passenger's seat of my car is looking for an ass to sit in it..." I nodded toward the car and picked up the bag from the floor, unlocking the trunk. "The way I see it? We're stuck together like a married couple, because your father won't have it any other way. So, why don't we try and make the best of it, and get along..."

He was quiet for a second, then grabbed his other back, presumably filled with clothes, and tossed it into the trunk, where all my weapons and my supply of rock salt were. "So...how close are you and my dad?" he asked me, walking over to the passenger's side of the car and opening the door.

I had figured that he'd want to know all the details about how close I was to John. But John had told me not to tell him immediately how much he'd trained me, because Dean would think he could slack. 'It's better for him to presume that you're inexperienced, so he doesn't get too comfortable,' he'd said. So, I did as I was told, as I always did with John. "Close enough," I answered simply, and sat in the driver's seat, turning back the key and smiling as my Duran Duran tape blared through the car. I had always liked eighties music. Never really fell out of it.

Dean turned and glared at me. "What the hell is this? Don't you have anything like...I don't know, Pink Floyd? Or like, the Who? Or anything other than—whatever this is?" he asked with an incredulous look in his eyes.

I chuckled lightly and shrugged my shoulders. "Rule number one, Dean, my friend. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake-hole," I told him simply, rolling the windows down and taking in the feeling of the fresh, crisp night breeze on my face. I glanced at Dean, who was simply staring out the window in disgust. The guy probably thought I was a prissy little princess, who would run away at the sight of blood. Boy, was he in for a surprise. I leaned toward the radio and turned the music up. "You know...I bet you could even grow to like this music, eventually," I said as I leaned down to turn the music up.

I heard him scoff. "I doubt it. I'll probably throw myself off a cliff before I get the chance to like it..." he said as he reclined the seat, trying to relax a little bit. "Can you turn it down?"

I chuckled. Yep, he had John's stubbornness. I decided not to give him the 'my car, my rules' speech, since it was our first day traveling together, and let him sleep. I leaned over and turned the music down, though I was hesitant, as it had just turned to my favorite song. He was just lucky that I was in a good mood. I watched him cover up with his jacket and took a mental reminder that this was John's son. And that, though he was an experienced hunter, John told me that he had not given Dean the training that he gave me, because he believed that his son wasn't mature enough for it, and some things, Dean would need to learn on his own. I had never mistrusted John Winchester before. And I figured that now wasn't a good time to start.


	2. Chemicals React

I had to admit, this wasn't what I expected when my dad told me that I'd have a partner. He said she was capable, but what I saw before my eyes was a woman my age, and she had a huge chip on her shoulder. But my dad had told me to go with her. So, I was in her Mustang (not a bad choice for a car, I had to admit—so, at least the girl had taste), watching as we pulled up to some dive motel. We were actually supposed to stay there? I looked at her with an inquisitive look on my face. Outside, god, there were chips of brown paint dragging almost halfway down the walls, revealing the color underneath, which was something of an off bright greenish yellow. And it looked like no more than a quintuple wide trailer. Smaller than any hotel I had ever seen in my life. "You're not serious, are you? We're staying here?"

She looked at me with an annoyed look on her face. "Well, if you can cough up for four hundred dollars a night to stay in the Ritz Carlton—or, better still, FIND a Ritz Carlton in central Iowa? I'd be more than happy to stay there, but...I don't see any, so the..." she glanced up at the name of the hotel, and scoffed a little. "...Rusty Snail?...it is..." she said as she opened the trunk. "Rusty Snail? As if they couldn't come up with a better name for a hotel than 'the Rusty Snail.' What is it supposed to be, like, us sleeping in the shell or something?" she took out my bags and handed them to me, then slung her own over her shoulders.

I had to laugh, because the Rusty Snail was a really pathetic name for a hotel. "At least it isn't in the shape of a snail..." I added with a shrug, reaching into my pocket for my wallet and the fake ID that my dad had put together for me. Alexander Petrov? Was I supposed to be Russian? I decided that I'd just be silent and let Grace do all the talking once we got inside. If she was as good at what she did as my dad said she was, she could certainly handle it. "Petrov?" I asked with an eyebrow cocked. I glanced at the age. Well,at least he'd made me over twenty-one.

She shrugged and grinned. "It was either that or Elivander Brudgecko. And I'm not even sure what nationality that name is, so I chose the one that I could at least recognize..." she smirked and nodded toward the door.

I stopped in my tracks. "You chose these?" I asked, rushing to catch up with her. "What name did you give yourself?" I asked her, waiting as she pulled the fake ID from her pocket. I looked it over. Christiane LaValle. So, she was supposed to be French? This I had to see. The girl looked as all American as the day was long. I watched as she walked up to the front desk and put her...or, Christiane's credit card on the table.

"'Ow you say...a room pour le deux, sil vous plait?" she asked the clerk with flawless pronunciation on all words, and I let a small smirk come to my face when the clerk gave her a confused glance. "Uh...un room..." she reached into her bag and pulled out a French to English dictionary, holding her index finger up. "Alexander...aide, sil tu plait..." she called me over her shoulder. Nice touch. She flipped through the pages. "Room...for..." she paused, and I pointed out a word on the page. "two..." she said, pronouncing the 'w' in two, for added effect.

The clerk raised an eyebrow and nodded, taking the credit card from the desk. "One bed or two?" she asked quickly, but held her fingers up to signify what she meant, putting her hands to the side of her face when she spoke the word 'bed.' I stifled a laugh and watched as Grace held two fingers up. The clerk pointed at the price on the computer, and Grace nodded as she put the card through the reader, then handed us a room key and the credit card. "Enjoy your st—ah, you can't understand me..." she said as she closed the window.

I smirked and followed Grace to our room. Room eighteen. She opened the door, and although it wasn't much to look at, there were two beds and four walls. And a shower. I tossed my bags to the floor and chose one of the beds, looking at Grace for a second. "I'm impressed..." I told her after she'd shut the door and tossed her bag onto the other bed. She looked at me inquisitively, so I kept talking. "Well, part of me expected you to be..."

She rolled her eyes and interrupted me. "Some twenty-something, tall, leggy blonde with big boobs and blah blah," she said in an obviously annoyed tone. "And when you saw me you thought you were going to have to teach me what to do but you saw me right there and your mind is changed?" she asked. Well, yeah, that was more or less it. I nodded and turned a little red. "It's okay, Dean. It's a normal reaction. But you know what? I've spent the past two years trained by your father. And before that, I lived right across from one of those roadhouses for hunters, so I learned a lot about hand-to-hand combat and weapons and all that. I do still get the occasional skeptic, though."

I sat on the bed and smiled at her. "It's not that I'm skeptical, Grace. If my father has so much faith in you, and lets you and I go out on our own? You must be good..." I told her, brushing a hand over my hair, noting that it was almost time for a cut. I looked like one of those guys in those boy-bands. "I just didn't expect you to be so good at conning. That French accent was...almost authentic. That's what impressed me..." I said as I reached into my bag of clothing and pulled out a set of pajamas.

She chuckled and reached into her bag, getting her own pajamas. "Well, my last name is Desrosiers. French name..." she laughed a little. "I had to learn French because my mom would only speak it after..." she paused, then turned toward the window on the other side of the room. "Let's go to bed, Dean. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow..." she told me, biting her lower lip as though trying to shut herself up.

But I was really curious now. I bit my lip and looked at her as she walked into the bathroom to change. Just because she wasn't a tall, leggy blonde? By no means meant that she wasn't hot. She was hot. And I was curious about her. And in that same breath, I was actually kind of glad that my dad had partnered me up with her. I changed into my pajamas while she was in the bathroom and walked into the bathroom after she left, leaving the door open a little, since I was already changed. I grinned a little. How was it possible for a woman to smell good when getting ready for bed? I leaned over the sink and rinsed my face, then glanced out at her. So, she was the girl that my dad was so proud of. Maybe she knew...things about my dad. Maybe she could answer the questions I had about my dad's life when he was away. Sure, he'd taught me enough to get by, but...I felt like I barely knew him. I opened the door when I was done rinsing my face, and look at her as I shut the door behind me again. "So, what was it that made you have to learn French?" I asked her as I took a seat on the bed.

She looked at me and shrugged. "Oh. Um..." she lay back on the bed. "My dad died when I was four. Boating accident, I guess. I like, just barely remember it, but...I was told that my family was on a boat together and...my mom grabbed me and jumped off with me, just in time for my dad to, like, crash into another boat..." she frowned. "And after that...my mom...she reverted back to her French state of mind, you know? So, she'd only speak it, and I needed to learn to, in order to be able to talk to her..." she trailed off.

I nodded and lay back in bed, too, propping myself up on my hand and putting my elbow to the bed. "I was four when my mom died, too. I didn't see her die, all I saw was my dad putting my little brother in my arms and telling me to run for the door and don't turn back..." I told her. We had a lot in common. I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, then took a deep breath.

She nodded and ran a hand through her hair. "I know. John told me..." she said sadly, and I looked over at her. "I know that you don't understand a lot of the things your dad tells you to do, Dean. You and your brother. But..." she shrugged and showed me a small smile. "I've been working with your dad for two years now. And he's never put me into a situation that I couldn't get myself out of. And I'm not even his kid. So, I'm sure he'd never do it to you..."

I smiled at her and shrugged a shoulder. "I know that. I do, but...it's just weird that, I don't, like, hear from him for a couple weeks in a row, and all of a sudden he calls me and says that I'm supposed to work with a stranger, you know?" I paused, realizing that I may have sounded a bit rude. "I'm sorry. That wasn't supposed to be that rude. It...wasn't supposed to be rude at all. I just—I don't know. I am sorry, though..." I bit my lip and ran a hand through my hair.

She nodded and showed me an apologetic glance. "I know, Dean. I mean, I don't know from personal experience, but...I know it has to be tough..." she put her arms behind her head. "Let's, like...try and get some sleep, okay? I'm not trying to avoid the conversation, I promise, but..." she sighed. "I just...don't know what I'm supposed to say. I feel really bad. Like I, like, stole your father. And I didn't mean to..."

I shook my head. "I don't think that," I told her. I didn't. I understood why she thought that I might, because I'd never heard of my dad talking about me like he did about her. But, I didn't resent her for it. "I just...wish he was as proud of me and the fact that I'm trying to be everything he wants me to be...as he was of you..." I told her. I didn't mean to say it. It just kind of slipped. "Um...I mean..." I tried to cover my ass, but it was too late.

Grace shook her head and looked at me. "Dean. He is so freaking proud of you it's insane. Seriously. Both you and Sammy. All he talked about to me was how he couldn't wait until I got a chance to hunt with his two sons. 'The finest hunters out there,' he'd say. He is so freaking proud of you that...God, I wanted a family like yours, Dean..." she said, glancing at me. "You know, I know all of the little 'what Dean used to do when he was little' traits, and we've only known each other for three hours?" she laughed.

I turned a little red. "Really?" I asked and watched as she nodded. Hearing her say that my dad was that proud of me...I suddenly felt a little better about working with her. A little more confident in myself, too. She smiled at me and I smiled back, then lay back against the pillow a little more. "G'night, Grace..." I said softly as I reached over to turn the lamp beside my bed off and closed my eyes.

Grace did the same, and I heard a smile in her voice as she said, "Good night, Dean..."

I thought about the situation I was in for a second. Maybe this wasn't the WORST thing ever to happen to me. Maybe Grace and I could work well together. Maybe we could even become friends...


	3. Desperado

"Shit!"

Well, that wasn't exactly what I'd expected. Dean and I had split up for the night. Dean had gone with this tall, long legged blonde that we'd met up with at the bar we were at, and I went with a quarterback looking guy...really not my usual type, but he was kind of cute, at least. And he was raring to go. The fact that I'd made us over twenty-one on the ID's we'd gotten worked out very much to our advantage. We got back to his apartment, and he shut the door and locked it behind him, putting the keys in his pocket, then turned and looked at me. And his eyes flashed black. My eyes widened, and I simply stared, but no sooner had I noticed it, than it faded away. For a second, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, so I just let it be. But when our kisses led us into the bedroom, and he shoved me, rather brutally, to the bed, and it happened again, I realized that maybe it wasn't so much that my eyes were playing tricks. I'd been conned by a demon. I leapt from the bed and rushed for the door, but I felt my face being smacked into a wall instead. "Fuck!"

I had been hunting since I was thirteen. I was seventeen then. I should have known better than to fall into this trap. I felt myself pinned to the wall by an invisible force, and I tried as hard as I could to fight against it, until I felt him drop me to the floor. I scrambled to my feet, only to be picked up and pinned to the wall by my throat. I struggled again. "What the fuck do you want with me?" I played dumb. Hoped he'd think that he made a mistake. But when those cold, black eyes bared down on me, I knew that smooth talking would get me nowhere.

"Please, Grace. Don't worry, Buffy. I'm not gonna kill you. No, I have other plans..." he told me, smoothing my hair back.

I tried to push my shoulders off the wall, but to no avail. "Don't—call—me—Buffy," I seethed and raised a knee to hit him in the sack, and he dropped me quickly, giving me a chance to run, as fast as I could, to the living room. I rushed to the door, to go to the car and get my gun, but didn't get there fast enough, before I felt my body being hurled from the ground, into a counter. I grunted as I hit, and fell to the floor.

He grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt and shoved me onto the couch. "So, this is the infamous Grace Desrosiers? Not what I expected, I have to admit..." he stood in front of me, and when I tried to stand, he pinned my chest to the couch with an invisible force, once again. "You're not walking out on me, are you, Grace? Walking out on a demon would not make Daddy John proud, now would it?"

I glared up at him. "Fuck you," I said, nonchalantly glancing around the room, trying to find anything I could use to my advantage. "You don't even deserve to speak John Winchester's name. Let me go before I make you fucking regret it!" I shouted, struggling against the invisible force, and wishing, more than anything, that I had Dean's backup.

He laughed. "Fuck me? Well, wasn't that what we initially had planned? Don't really mind if I do, now that you mention it..." he said, and pinned my body tighter to the couch. "Maybe I should call my friend? Have her rip your little partner, the Winchester boy, limb from limb, while I'm at it. I'm sure she'd love that," he paused. "Or, she could just eat him alive. She'd be happy either way, I wager..." he smiled cruelly. "Can I offer you a drink, before we get the fun started?" he asked with a smirk.

Dean? The girl that was with him was a—shit, this was fucking fantastic. I had to get out of this, and fast. I spotted, out of the corner of my eye, a large black sculpture, and nodded my head when he asked for a drink. "Fuck, I'll have to be drunk, or drugged, or what the fuck ever, before I let you fucking touch me," I said, watching as he walked out of the room, and reaching toward the table. Just barely out of my reach. I groaned at the tightness against my chest, but fought against it, and my hand just barely touched the marble sculpture. I saw it tilting, and smiled when it landed right in my hand, sliding it behind my back.

He walked back into the room, the phone in his hand, and a drink in the other. "Now...where were we?" he asked me, setting my drink on the table, and leaning over me, a hungry smirk on his face. I reached a hand behind my back and gripped the sculpture tighter, then brought it out from behind my back, before hitting him in the front of the head harshly, and watching him collapse onto my lap. "Get the fuck off me!" I shouted, shoving him to the floor, and taking off in a dash toward the Mustang, where all my weapons were. Initially, I'd planned on killing him, but no. Not enough time. I had to go get Dean the hell out of dodge, before some psycho demon bitch went cannibalistic on his ass. God knows John would fucking kill me if anything happened to Dean on my watch. Plus, I'd feel pretty shitty myself.

Dean had mentioned something about having her take him back to the hotel. Thank God. Because if it were her place? I'd have no idea where to start looking. I drove quickly back to the hotel, just in time to see a shadow cross by the window in a relatively quick fashion. I grabbed my shotgun, filled with rock salt, and ran into the room through the sliding glass door. And sure enough, Dean was unprepared, as all his weapons were in the trunk of my car, and he was laying in a heap on the floor, the demon bitch advancing on him. "HEY!" I shouted, raising my gun and aiming at her, watching her turn around. She froze in place, and I looked at Dean, keeping her in my peripheral. "Dean, you okay?"

Dean raised a hand and gave me a sarcastic thumbs up, but as far as I knew, that was okay in Dean language. I focused my attention back on the demon bitch and cocked my gun, not giving her a chance to speak, simply shooting her and watching as the white mist emanated from her body. I hurried to Dean's side. "I'm...uh...pretty sure that was loud enough to wake up the people around us, so I think we kind of need to get out of here. Fast..." I said, helping him up from the floor. He hobbled behind me, as I picked up both of our bags and rushed to the sliding glass door. Good, he was close behind me. I rushed to the Mustang, trying not to go too fast, since he was pretty scathed up, and I didn't want to lose him. We threw our bags into the trunk and got into the front, just in time to see a shadow making it's way into the room we'd been in, and I peeled out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.

Dean glanced at me, after using the medical supplies I had in my glove compartment to patch up his wounds. "What was it that tipped you off? That I was in trouble, I mean?" he asked me, wrapping his wrist with an ace bandage.

I shrugged and turned onto the interstate. "The guy I was with was one, too...we were both demon toys tonight. We were set up, I think," I shook my head. "Though...the one I was with? He's not dead..." I told him sheepishly. "But, I couldn't take the time to kill him, and make it on time to save your ass, both. It was one or the other, and I think I made the ri—"

Dean nodded and smiled a little. "Thank you..." he said softly.

I smiled back and pulled off the road on a straight stretch, grabbing the ace bandage from his hand when he was done and wrapping my wrist, where it had hit against the wall. "I figure, we need to develop some kind of trust in each other, right? That's what your dad had planned when he asked us to work together..." I told him, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly. "So long as we stick together? We're pretty much a force to be reckoned with."

He nodded in agreement and dabbed up some of the blood on his forehead with a gauze pad. "I agree. You make me a lot more confident..."

I half-smiled and turned a little red. "You too, Dean..." I told him softly, glancing away from him quickly. In my life, I'd never really had any time for a real, true romantic interest. Whether it be caring for my mother or helping Uncle Bobby at the Salvage Yard, or even hunting with John, it just wasn't something that I could do. So, even if one bit me in the ass, I wouldn't know it. But I did know that Dean made me feel sort of funny sometimes. Like, when he smiled? My poor stomach turned into a roller coaster. When he touched me, I tingled for a few seconds. It was really strange, and kind of freaky. But I was unfamiliar with the feeling, so I didn't think anything of it at the time.

I watched as Dean settled in to go to sleep for the ride, and sighed a little. Okay. So, maybe there was something in my head about him. But I couldn't act on it. This was John's son. And I was sure that wasn't what John intended when he put the two of us together. If I wound up trying to date his son, I think John would be liable to kill me. I turned on the radio, and put on some Pink Floyd, watching as Dean's head perked up for a second. "...are we listening to—"

"Don't get used to it..." I smirked and rolled my window down, humming along to the tune of 'Wish You Were Here,' trying to piece my head together.


	4. Red Flag

That taught us to fuck with a vampire cult. We'd crashed one of their little parties and freed all of their sacrifices, and, well, they were pissed, for lack of a better word. They'd all ganged up on us, knocked us out and, well, yeah, that was the last thing I remembered. I did, however, remember that the leader, Lacrimosa, said that she was going to sacrifice both Grace and I to their—whatever they worshiped, that night. Frankly, I didn't want to wait around long enough to find out who or what it was. Their ritual involved slitting our throats and draining us of all our blood, and blah blah...so, no, I wasn't keen on finding out what they thought 'holy' was.

I don't think I had ever woken up tied to anything before. Though it was sort of kinky. Something I could see myself getting into eventually. Still, I'd never had it happen before. But when my eyes opened, and all I could see was the darkness of the blindfold on my eyes...and I couldn't move my arms, I wasn't sure if I'd find it so kinky anymore. I tried to reach up to un-blindfold myself, but I met with resistance, and my hands were yanked away from my face. So, I was tied to something that moved? I arched my back, but also met with resistance. I struggled, but so did whatever I was tied to, so I turned my head toward whatever or whoever it was. I wasn't going to say anything, in case I was tied to someone who wouldn't cooperate, but at the same time, who or whatever it was may cooperate with me, so I knew it was probably wise for me to speak up. "Hello?"

"Dean?" I heard a familiar, also relieved voice coming from behind me. Grace. Oh, thank God. "Man, for like two seconds there I thought I might be in serious trouble..." her voice was full of a mix of both exasperation and relief. "I couldn't reach into my back right pocket because of how our arms are tied, but there's a knife in there. If you could get it and cut us free, that'd be fantastic..." she told me.

"Jesus, I'm so glad it's you..." I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard Grace's voice, and noticed that our hands were, in fact, tied in quite an inconvenient fashion. Our wrists were crossed, then our arms were tied both at the wrists and the elbows, so that made for very limited movement, unless we both cooperated, and there was a pole between us, too. I took Grace's instruction and reached behind the pole and into her back, right pocket, feeling the knife there, then blindly sliced at the right rope, hoping it didn't break suddenly and leave me slicing one of our arms, thus sending all the bloodthirsty vampires into a tizzy. I freed one of each of our arms at the wrist, then tried to slide my arm up to cut the rope around our upper arms, feeling Grace shift uncomfortably. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she said, obviously through gritted teeth. But I did as I was told, and cut at the higher rope, slowly and carefully. When I felt it break, I immediately reached up with my now free arm to free myself from the blindfold. I looked at Grace, who had freed herself, too, and watched her hold her hand out for the knife. I handed it to her and watched as she sliced at the ropes on our other arm. When she was finally finished, we both stood up, and showed one another a semi-relieved smile. But that only lasted for a second. "So, how in the hell are we going to get out of there, with Lacrimosa Wrinkleface and the Wrinklettes out there?" she asked as she made her way, slowly, toward the door.

I chuckled at her name for the cult, and followed her slowly. "Good question," I shrugged and took a glance at my watch, biting my lip. "All I know is that I really don't want to be sacrificed. So, whatever it is we want to do? We should probably come up with it fast..." I told her, watching as she cocked an eyebrow. "It's nine fifteen now, and they said this was all going to go down at nine thirty..." I watched as a panicked look came across her face. "So...maybe we should try and think of something...and fast."

Grace closed her eyes and thought about it for a second. She walked over to a small, wooden chair on the opposite side of the room and threw it with all her might against the wall, making it shatter to pieces and fall to the floor. She picked up two wooden shards and handed me one, smiling a little. "I really do feel like Buffy right now..." she smirked, and I had to laugh since she always spazzed when people called her Buffy. But I listened to the rest of her plan. "So, my plan is, we walk out of here, back to back. And stab anything that moves—aside from one another—with these."

I chuckled at the simplicity of her plan, and nodded my head. "I take it you'll take the front?" I asked, watching her nod and open the door. We made our way, slowly and carefully toward the front door, and we got about fifteen feet down the hall, before I felt Grace stop suddenly, and I turned my head slightly to see her slice stake forward , toward the vampire before her. The vampire jumped back and Grace raised her foot, kicking the other woman in the chin and knocking her to the floor, then stabbed her in the chest with the stake. She backed into me again, acting nonchalant, and as though she hadn't full-on Jackie Chan'd that bitch. "That...was hot."

She chuckled and shushed me, and my attention focused on the area behind me, just in time to see another shadowy figure come out of a door. I brandished my stake, and glared at the man before my eyes, lunging forward at him and knocking him to the ground, watching Grace glance back toward me, then stand at the corner, making sure that no one was coming so that I could end this guy. I raised the stake and prepared to lower it when he shouted out. "WAIT! WAIT! I'M NOT ONE OF THEM!..." but it was too late. The stake was already on it's way into his chest, and...I...watched as he gasped for air, then began coughing up blood.

My eyes widened. I had just killed...an innocent man? Shit. I started to panic, staring at him for a moment or two, and Grace rushed over to my side, helping me stand and yanking my stake out of the guy's chest. "New plan..." she said as she watched him cough again, and we both looked away quickly when we saw his eyes roll back. "Just fucking run. We need to get the fuck out of here..." she tugged on my arm. But I...wanted to see if there was any way to save the guy. "It's too late, Dean, come on!" she yanked on my arm, and eventually got my feet to move.

All I could think of was...what if this guy had a family? He looked to be my dad's age. What if he had sons like my dad did? What if I'd just taken someone's daddy from them, and I hadn't known it? I wasn't even sure how many vampires we passed or didn't pass, as I followed Grace numbly out of the creepy, abandoned house, and down the road a ways, before I noticed a group of the vampires rushing out of the house too. "Keep running Dean, come on!" she pulled on my arm again, and we took a detour into the bathroom on the side of a gas station. I watched as Grace locked the door behind us. "Y—you think we lost them?" she spoke in a breathless voice.

I leaned down and put my hands on my knees, bracing myself and trying to catch my breath. I heard the question she asked, but to be frank, I couldn't bring myself to say anything at that point. I had just...killed a man who may have had a family. A family who couldn't do without him. I may have killed...God, I didn't even know. He could have been the nicest guy on Earth, and I killed him. It wasn't until I looked at Grace and the look of sympathy that she was giving me, that I realized that I'd said everything aloud. She walked across the small bathroom and hugged me tightly. "I know, Dean. But he also could have been lying..."

I swallowed hard and leaned against her shoulder, hugging her tightly. I tried not to cry. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to feel weak in front of Grace, but...God, I'd just killed a man who had done absolutely nothing to me. All he'd done at all was tried to survive against the same group of vampires that Grace and I had. And I killed him. "Fuck..." I whimpered, and broke down against her shoulder. What the hell kind of pathetic display was this? Wasn't I supposed to be the strong, male hunter, to help Grace when her emotions got the better of her? So far all I was seeing was the opposite.

She pulled back from the hug and ran a hand along my cheeks. "I think we're in the clear, Dean. Why don't we find our way back to the hotel. We can talk about this there...a little more comfortably than in a gas station bathroom..." she suggested, leading me toward the door and unlocking it when we got there. She was right. Plus, who knew who'd come around and listen to what we were saying? I hobbled beside her, my injuries from earlier paining me a bit, and tried to sort out what I was thinking. What was there to say, anyway?

I sighed. It was going to be a long night...


	5. Prince

I don't think I'd ever seen him so torn up before. But then again, the guy had just made his first accidental kill of an innocent man. I'd done it before. "I was fifteen, the first time I killed an innocent man," I told Dean once I closed the door behind me and sat on my bed. "and your dad and I were hunting a wendigo. And I had the flare gun that John had given me to kill him with (John had the other), but I got nervous, and my trigger finger slipped..." I shuddered at the memory. "Your dad ducked as soon as he heard it fire, so it missed him and hit one of the men that the wendigo had taken captive..." I said. I had gotten myself to the point that I could talk about it in a monotone voice. Where I could recount the tale and not feel like I had done something horridly wrong. John's method of handling it was to let me stew about it overnight, and then ask me about it the next day. And I'd hated that. At times, he was the best mentor I could ask for, but there were times I wished that I wished that he could have been a little more keen to the fact that I am a girl, and as such, have emotions.

But I wasn't going to let that same thing happen, even though Dean was a guy, he still had emotions. Though I was almost sure that he'd try as hard as he could to hide how he was feeling, but...that was just how Winchesters—and men in general, for that matter—worked. He was sitting on the bed and staring at the ceiling, so as far as I could tell, he was doing a shitty job hiding it. I got up from my bed and walked over to him, putting a hand on his arm. "Dean. It's okay. You are allowed to have emotions, you know? This is an emotionally trying profession. And what happened today sucked on all levels of thinking. So, like...I would totally understand if you needed to vent. I needed to and I didn't get the—" I didn't get a chance to say anything else, Dean just grabbed the pillow behind him and just threw it as hard as he could, in the wall on the other side of the room, letting out an anguish-filled shout.

I leapt up at first, but when I heard Dean's shout turn into a fit of sobs, I quickly crossed the distance between my bed and his, and pulled him into my arms, clutching him tightly as I felt him bury his head in my shoulder. "You didn't know, Dean. It's okay. I promise..." I whispered, feeling his hands grabbing tightly at the back of my shirt. "Maybe it wasn't as cut and dry as it looked, okay?" I wasn't sure if what I was saying was getting through, since his head was in the crook of my neck, and I heard him let out a shuddering breath. "It's okay, Dean. I promise. Look at me for a second. Just..." I pulled back from the hug and looked into his eyes. "Would you have preferred finding out that he was a vampire, and like, he turned and bit one of us? We'd have to kill each other..." I gently brushed a hand through his hair. "I don't...want that to happen," I told him, watching as he shook his head. "I...agree with what you did, and it's okay."

Dean stared at me for a second, and I saw the look on his face change from sadness to a soft smile, and it looked like he had never felt so happy before. I smiled a little, and I was about to say something, when I was interrupted by Dean's lips crashing to mine, and his hands raising up and into my hair. I had to admit, I was slightly confused, but I also wasn't going to fight it. I'd had flings with lots of guys before. But I always really...sort of...kind of...maybe...liked Dean. The way we always had one another's backs was something I'd only had with John before, but John...John. John would kill me. I had to pull away. I had to. I should have. But I couldn't. Dean's hands were still somewhat smooth in his youth, before time gave him all the scars and things that wore him down a little, and the feel of them on the skin beneath my shirt sent goosebumps throughout my entire body. He lay me down gently and looked into my eyes. "Is this okay?" he asked. Dean was still so unsure of himself at that point. But I was sure of him. And I was also sure that I wanted him.

I nodded and played at the buttons on his shirt, raising my arms so he could pull my shirt off. I pushed the blasted flannel off his shoulders (what he saw—still sees—in those things is, and was, beyond me, but he makes, and made...them look good), and pulled up on his shirt. He let me remove it and came back down to kiss me. He was so skinny then. But still so beautiful. I looked into those gorgeous eyes and smiled a little as I turned the tables and straddled his hips, playing at his belt buckle with hungry hands. Sure, neither of us were virgins. But you know what? I don't ever remember needing something like this. I don't think I'd ever been that loud, either—but Dean wasn't exactly quiet. Our bodies moved together though our movements jerked a little in our inexperience, but it was definitely enough. And after an all too brief few moments, I let myself go, feeling Dean seconds behind.

When I finally got my inability to move back, I rolled off of him slowly, laying on the bed beside him and smiling a little. Though I wasn't exactly sure why that had just happened, what I had done to deserve it or whatever, I smiled at him. I put a hand on his cheek and smiled. "You're...something, you know that, Dean Winchester?" I asked him, unsure of what else to call him. Because he really was...something. A partner. A friend. And now a lover. I wasn't sure if this was just a freak, fluke incident—and I hoped it wasn't, too, but if it was, I'd take it. Especially given the way I think I was beginning to feel.

He chuckled and smoothed my hair back. "You too, Grace. I mean it. And...thank you. For...you know, helping me out of my little moment of...whatever that was. Self-loathing, I guess. You...really are something. A good friend, for one..." he pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek and think I melted a little. I don't think anyone in my life had made me feel as special as he did in that moment. No one. Ever. Not even John had made me feel like I meant something, aside from professionally. I had never been enough for someone in the personal sense.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say to that. There were a million things in my mind, like how beautiful he looked in the light, and how much his words really, truly meant to me. And how amazing he was making me feel. But none of them seemed...the right thing to say right then. So, I smiled at him again, and leaned against his shoulder, preparing to fall asleep for the night. "Thank you, Dean..." I said. I knew that didn't cover it, but...it was all I could think of right then.


	6. Butterfly

I stared at the phone numbly as I hung it up, then glanced back at Dean. That...was not supposed to happen. The past two years had been filled with Dean and I, and getting to know one another, and dare I say it? Love one another. After the first time we slept together, our relationship snowballed, and we turned into a true-blue-bona-fide couple. We'd never actually called ourselves that, but we never denied it and posed as one as many times as we possibly could. We stopped getting hotel rooms with two beds, and God, things were fantastic. I had thought many times that I'd found the one I was made for at a very young age. But that night, John had called me. And told me that he had a lead. And that he needed me. Needed me to leave Dean. Told me that, though he wasn't against Dean and I being together, he knew that Dean wasn't ready for it yet, so he wanted me to join him. Tore my world from beneath me like a carpet that needed washing. I was eighteen, and in love, and he told me that it wasn't time. And that was the first time I ever argued my point with John Winchester.

But, as expected, he got me to agree to leave Dean on his own and go off to find him in the backwoods of Vermont. I did, however, tell him that I wasn't going to just leave Dean without a proper goodbye, so he could plan for me not to be there for a couple of days. I looked hopelessly at Dean and bit my lower lip. How was I going to say goodbye to the man who had just told me last night that 'without me, he wasn't sure if his life would mean anything?' God, I felt like I was leaving him for his father. How was I going to say goodbye? How was—I wasn't. Simple as that. I would just have to treat tonight normally, or as normally as I could, and...walk out. Leave Dean my car and call a cab. I faked a smile and turned to face Dean. "Sorry. It was my uncle," I lied. "Now...where were we?" I asked him, not even bothering to wait for an answer and pushing him to the bed gently. If this was going to be our last night together—possibly forever, given the profession we were in and the fact that you never knew what was going to happen the next second—I was going to make it one to remember.

Dean grinned and pulled my body to his, showing me just how interested he really was in what was going on. "About here, I think..." he smirked and pressed his lips to mine. I pawed at him, probably a bit tactlessly, but I didn't care—and it was evident by his actions that he didn't, either. I groaned and ground my hips against his, then entwined my fingers in his hair. We didn't even get clothes all the way off. I was still in my sun-dress, and his pants only made it down to his knees, but that was fine. I would take whatever I could for our last hurrah. I wish I could tell him. But if I did he would beg and plead for me to stay. And I didn't think I could handle that. I arched my back and felt my body comfortably crushed beneath the weight of Dean's in his final throes, I worked a little harder and got myself there shortly thereafter. After a few seconds of, I don't know what he was doing, probably trying to gather his thoughts from his post coital haze. But when he came out if it? And finally spoke up? I don't know whether my heart broke or exploded. "Hey Grace?" I looked over at him, and smiled at the look in his eyes. "I...love you."

My face froze, I think. Was there a standard answer for when the man you loved, who you know you had to leave, told you that he loved you? They needed to make a book for this, really. "I love you, too, Dean..." I told him softly. I meant it, yes. But, God, if I could only tell him. I lay my head against his shoulder. So, Dean had just told me that he loved me for the first time. And I told him back. And as far as I could wager, we both meant it. But I couldn't be as happy as I wanted to. I watched Dean fall asleep, and for a second, I pondered telling John off. Telling him that Dean and I were supposed to be together and we were ready, whether he believed in us or not, but Jesus Christ. This was a fucking predicament. It was my father figure or my boyfriend. A classic case of 'damned if I do, damned if I don't.' I had decided beforehand, though, way before Dean and I ever decided that we were—what we were—that if the situation ever arose, I'd go with John. So, I moved around and hung my feet off the edge of the bed. And Dean shuffled a little, but fell back to sleep, and I had never been more grateful for that man being a heavy sleeper.

I grabbed my clothes from the floor and dressed quickly and quietly, then grabbed a pen from beside the phone and a piece of paper from the complimentary notepad that the hotel left, then walked over to the table. 'I have to leave you. I'm sorry, Dean,' I began. 'I am. I wish there was something I could say or do to make you understand. Don't think that this means that I meant what I said any less. It doesn't. I do love you. But...there are things I have to do. Places I have to be. And being in love, Dean? It makes us vulnerable. I can't be vulnerable. I have to be..."

"You're leaving?" I heard his voice from over my shoulder. Closer than I'd thought it would be, too. He'd read what I'd just written.

Damn. My eyes closed tightly. Shit. "I have to, Dean. I can't let myself be vulner—"

His eyes narrowed. "That's bullshit, Grace..." he said, and I think, in his eyes, I saw his heart break. "Emotions make us stronger. I would take on the world to keep you safe and I know you would for me, too."

I stopped him mid-sentence. "Dean. I understand that. And yes, it is true..." I saw him opening his mouth to say something, but I stopped him again. "But what if, like...we stop in the middle of a hunt to kiss each other or something and like, you or I get knocked on the head and taken? We're vulnerable when we're together, Dean. I...can't. I have to be—alone."

"What will my dad say?"

I closed my eyes tightly. "He's...the one who suggested it, Dean. He said to leave you the Mustang and call a cab. I'm sorry. But he's right. I can't put you in that pos—"

He stopped me. "Stop acting like you're doing this for me. You're not. You're doing this for my dad. Go. Fucked if I care. I don't need you. I'm better on my own..." he said softly as he turned and took a couple steps away.

"Dean..."

"Leave. Now. I don't want to hear it, okay? You don't love me, and you never did. I don't want to see your face anymore, Grace..." he had tears choking him.

And I did too. I stood up. "I do love you, Dean. So, you're wrong about that..." I told him in a sad tone. "I...just have to do this for your father..." I wasn't sure how to rationalize what I was doing, following John so blindly. I wasn't even sure what the 'this' I had to do for him was. But, I did it. I didn't say another word to Dean, just grabbed my bag and threw my keys on the table for him. I left the hotel, and didn't look back. If I looked back and saw Dean coming after me, I'd run for him. I stopped at the pay phone by the front desk and called a cab, before finally taking a glance back. He wasn't there, which was good, because I didn't think I could take it. I told the cab to meet me on the street corner, in case he changed his mind.

It was for the best. It had to be. It was.

But...why did it feel so wrong?


	7. the Kill

It had been three weeks and two days. Three weeks and two days, and all hope that she would call me, telling me that she had changed her mind were diminished. I didn't sleep much the night she left. Or for the next couple nights. And I still had spells where I just couldn't sleep. I'd thought about it a million times, and I still wasn't sure what would have possessed my father to call and tell Grace that we were better without one another. But she didn't have to jump and run right away, either. She could have said no. She could have told him that she didn't want to go. That I mattered too much for her to be able to go. But it was obvious. The only one who mattered was my father. The only Winchester who ever mattered to anyone was my father. It wasn't that I hated my dad. I didn't. But God, he had just taken away the only person who had really ever mattered to me. Aside from Sammy. I couldn't devalue Sammy. I sighed a bit. It was like the guy thrived on getting people used to one way of life, and then ripping it from beneath their fingers.

I'd met this girl named Cassie since then. Beautiful. Amber skin and chocolate eyes, with ballistics to kill, if you catch my drift. We hit it off, and I decided that maybe she could help me forget. I'd told her about Grace. A toned down, non-hunter version. And she understood and consoled me. She even went so far as to forgive me the couple of times that I called out Grace's name in bed. At first, my mindset had gone to 'everything happens for a reason,' and I had convinced myself that maybe Cassie had been the reason that Grace and I had to fall apart. So, after that revelation, I told Cassie about my profession. Told her what I spent my days doing before she met me, and she told me I was crazy. Told me to get out of her life and not look back. Told me that she'd heard some doozies in her day, reasons why guys wanted to break up with her, but that this was certainly new. I tried to plead my case, but she all but shoved me out the door and told me never to darken her doorstep again.

That was fine. She wanted me gone, I could do that. Maybe the dramatics were a bit much, but that was to be expected, I supposed. I was on my way to the Mustang, when I realized that I'd gone about this in a really irrational manner. I took everything out on Grace, and had never even pointed a finger at my dad. I took the cell phone I'd bought in Missouri from my coat pocket and dialed my dad's cell phone number. I had to ask him. Needed to talk to him. Four rings, and still no answer. But just as I was about to give up and hang up, I heard my dad's voice come through the phone. "Hello?" he asked. He sounded ecstatic. Well, at least one of us was.

"Dad?" I opened the door to the Mustang and sat down, rolling the window down, since the reception sucked with the window up.

"Dean. How are you doing, son? Find that shape-shifter yet?"

"No," I spoke coldly. "Dad..."

"Son, it's not a good time right now. Can I call you la—"

"No," I didn't let him finish. "Dad, I need to know something. Why?"

He went silent, and I think I heard another voice in the background. Probably Grace. God knows what I'd just interrupted. I heard him shushing someone, and then he came back to the phone. "Son, can we—"

"No!" I shouted. God, this was frustrating. I deserved answers. Needed to know why he didn't want me to be happy. "Do you have a 'if I can't be happy, no one can' complex or something?" I asked coldly into the phone.

"Hold on a second..." he said, and the line went quiet.

I looked at the display on my phone. The call hadn't ended, and now that I listened a little closer, I heard a bit of shuffling in the background. "Dad! DAD, come BACK!" I shouted. God damn, sometimes the way he handled things made me wish that I could just throttle him. I saw Cassie peek her head out the window from behind me and started the car, holding the phone to my ear with one hand.

"I'm sorry. Housekeeping..." his voice came back through on the other line. I could tell that was bullshit, but I wasn't going to call him on it. I already had enough on my mind. Upon a closer listen, I picked up a choked sob in the background of the phone call. "Why what?"

Why what? I pulled over to the side of the road and shut the car off. How could he even ask me why what? "Why did you call Grace to you, dad?" I practically shouted out the window of the car, at the river off in the distance. This was frustrating. I had never asked my dad questions in my life. Always been his good little soldier who listened to him without question, and the one time that I wanted answers, he wouldn't give them to me.

I heard him sigh, and a bit of shuffling on the other line. And there it was, that choked sob again. I heard my dad shush someone—was Grace crying? The anger in my veins subsided, and I felt concern replacing it as I heard that sob again. That was Grace. Before I could ask, my dad spoke up. "Son, you'll understand in time, I promise. Right now, there are some things that I have to attend to so—"

"Is Grace okay?" I asked, interrupting him mid-sentence and not caring less what he thought of it. Grace was crying. What was going on? Why had my dad called her there? They'd been in Vermont. Had something happened? "I hear—"

"Grace is fine. We just had a rough hunt, Dean. Which is why I have to let you go..." he said, and I could hear in his voice that he was lying. But if he didn't want to tell me the truth, that was fucking fine. He and Grace could have all the sex they wanted. He could have her. I didn't want her if she could just up and leave me for my father like that. Fuck, you think you know someone.

"Fine. That's fine, dad. Talk to you when I talk to you..." I said, and moved the phone from my ear to hang it up.

"Wait," I heard my dad's voice pleading. Why I owed him anything, I didn't know, but...I waited, as I was told. "Dean, I'm sorry. But...I—I don't think you're ready for—"

"I know. I know you don't. Just let it go. I don't hate you dad. And...please, take care of Grace, okay?" I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat of the car. Grace was the first woman I had ever really loved, and I would still be destroyed if anything happened to her. "She may act like an altar of strength, but..."

"I know, son. I'll...I'll call you, okay?"

I wiped my eyes, feeling tears welling up in the corners of them, but I didn't let it show in my voice. "Okay..." I said simply, and ended the call, shutting my phone off. Part of me wanted to talk to Grace. To see why she was crying. But another part wasn't sure if I could do it. I'd end up begging her to come back. And who was to say my dad would even let me talk to her to begin with? I wiped my eyes and started the car again, heading toward the hotel I was staying at. Maybe a good night's sleep would clear my head. Though...if I wanted a good night's sleep, I shouldn't have called my dad so late at night. And I had to work on clearing my head, too.

I decided, in that moment, that love was a useless emotion. That I didn't need it. That it only led to pain. If I couldn't have Grace—a woman who truly understood everything I did? I didn't want anyone. I'd just go through life as a bachelor. Why not? Many men before me had done it, and for much less of a reason. As far as I was concerned, I was entitled to living my life the way I wanted to live it. I pulled into a hotel and sighed as I grabbed my wallet from the passenger's seat. Love. Who needed it?

Not me, that was who.


	8. Nobody's Home

With the lightning came the thunder, as I paced around the bathroom nervously, praying that my suspicions were wrong. For the past three weeks, I'd been eating really strangely, been sick in the morning and been extremely emotional. I couldn't be pregnant. I couldn't be. I was only eighteen. And there was only one man who the baby could belong to. Since I'd left, I just couldn't find it in me to be with anyone. Dean was the only man I wanted in my life, and if I couldn't have him, I'd just as soon be alone forever. So, no. I hadn't slept with anyone. If I was pregnant? Yes. If I even was pregnant, it belonged to Dean Winchester. God. Dean wasn't ready to be a father. I wasn't ready to be a mother. I couldn't have a child. I couldn't. I looked at the directions. Wait sixty seconds. Then look at the strip.

"Blue. What the fuck does that mean?" I asked as I stared at the directions. These fucking things may as well have been written in Chinese. They needed to make these things readable. Or at least make them sold with a personal translator or something. I ran a hand through my hair and looked at the ceiling. Did I want to know? Yes, I wanted to know. It was better to know now than to wait until I had a huge baby bump and John started asking questions. I swallowed. _If the strip turns aquamarine, then that means you are pregnant._ "Aquamarine? What the hell is aquamarine? Is that, like, a shade of blue or something? FUCKING A! ALL I WANT TO KNOW IS IF I'M GOING TO HAVE A FUCKING BABY!" I shouted aloud and kicked the wall.

"What?" I heard, coming out from the main hotel room.

Fuck. John was back? Fuck...and he'd heard my spaz attack? I closed my hands and prayed that John didn't hear anything, hiding the pregnancy test in the shower, until I could get another few minutes in the bathroom by myself. I walked to the door and opened it, walking into the main part of the hotel room. "Oh. Um...nothing..." I said simply, smiling and taking a seat on my bed. "What'd you get for dinner?" I asked. There was my appetite again. I'd just snacked on a whole tube of Pringles from the hotel vending machine, but I was still starving. This was really starting to worry me.

Dripping wet from the downpour outside, John looked at me with a curious gleam in his eye. "I thought I heard you say something about having a baby..." he chuckled. "Crazy, huh?" he shrugged a shoulder and started taking Chinese food containers from the bag and setting them on the table. "Oh well. Must be hearing things. I'll be right back..." he said, standing up and heading into the bathroom.

My eyes widened, and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. I prayed that he was only going to the bathroom, and didn't decide to take a shower, because...God, I did NOT want him to know before I did. I was pacing. And I don't think I even noticed it. But when John walked back out of the bathroom, I noticed the concerned look he was giving me. Had he seen it? I bit my lip. "It's not what you think, John. It's not. I don't even know. I might not be and...I just wanted to be sure, you know?"

He scratched his neck and cocked an eyebrow at me. "What are you talking about, Grace?"

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I looked at John, then ran a hand through my hair. "John...if I tell you something, do you promise me that you won't freak out?" I asked. I had to tell him anyway. If he freaked out, I would just branch out on my own. I could do this. But...God, I wasn't sure if I was ready for a kid. John nodded and sat down at the table. I held my index finger out, told him to wait a minute, and walked into the bathroom, coming back out with the pregnancy test behind my back. "Um..." I approached him, trying to think of the best way to tell him that I was pregnant with his grandchild. I took the test from behind my back and showed it to him, figuring that since he had two kids, he could decode the thing for me. "What...does this mean?"

John stared at the strip for a second, then looked up at me. "Is...is this yours?" he asked me, and when I nodded, the fear set in. John wasn't saying anything. He was going to kick me out and make me do this alone and...God. This was what I was afraid of. But John spoke up again. "Is it...Dean's?"

I breathed deeply and nodded my head. "He's the only one it can belong to. He's the only one I've...had sex with over the past year or so..." I was scared. I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to think at this point. I was pregnant with Dean's child, and John wasn't saying or doing anything to indicate what he thought. "I'm sorry, John. I didn't know this was going to happen and like...God, I am so sorry. What's Dean going to do when he finds out?"

John shook his head. "He's not going to find out," he said simply. I looked at him for a second, but he stood up and took a few steps toward me. "Listen, Grace. Everything will be okay, all right? I promise. I'll help you raise him. Or her. And everything will be fine. I'm not mad. I couldn't be happier..." he told me, putting a hand on my cheek. "But, Grace, sweetie, listen to me. Dean can't know about this. Not yet. He's not mature enough to balance a family and the job. You can't tell him. Promise me right now that you won't."

I stared at him. "But...John—I can't keep this from Dean. I can't. He deserves to—" I didn't get a chance to finish what I was saying, before John's phone rang.

He glanced at the name on the call ID, held his index finger up and took a couple to steps away. "Don't say anything," he said to me as he pressed the 'accept' button and took the call. "Dean. How are you doing, son? Find that shape-shifter yet?" I closed my eyes and walked over to the bed. He expected me to raise a child without it getting the chance to know it's father? I'd been there. And I hated it. I couldn't do that to my own child. "Son, it's not a good time right now. Can I call you la—" he stopped talking. Dean must have interrupted him.

I stood from the bed and walked toward the phone. "John, let me talk to him..." I told him.

But he shook his head. "Son, can we—"

Dean must have interrupted him again. I reached for the phone. "Give me the phone, John..." I said. John shook his head and I started to get mad. "Give me the damn phone!"

"Hold on a second..." he said to Dean, and covered the speaker, flashing me a glare. "No. You are not telling my son that he is going to have a baby when he is on a hunt. It is not going to happen, Grace, so get the idea out of your head. Eat supper and let me finish this damned conversation," he spat, and went back to the phone call. "I'm sorry. Housekeeping...why what?" I was stunned speechless. John had never raised his voice at me. But I wasn't going to cry. I couldn't cry. Shit, the urge to was overwhelming, though. I felt my sobs choking me, and I made a noise that sounded like a puppy who'd just been kicked, as I walked back over to the bed and sat. "Son, you'll understand in time, I promise. Right now, there are some things that I have to attend to so—" John stopped once again. "Grace is fine. We just had a rough hunt, Dean. Which is why I have to let you go..."

Well, this was a fucked up definition of fine. Pregnant and scared, and being told that I couldn't tell the father. Yeah, that was fine, all right. I closed my eyes and felt the tears overflowing. Dean had still asked about me. Even after I'd just left him like that, he still cared about me. Fuck, this felt so wrong. I wanted to tell him. So badly. Wanted to go and be with him, so we could deal with this pregnancy together. "Wait," I heard John say into the phone. Was he changing his mind? I raised my head from my hands. "Dean, I'm sorry. But...I—I don't think you're ready for—"

My head slumped again. Of course he wasn't changing his mind. When John Winchester had a thought in his head, there was no swaying him. I felt a couple tears crawling down my cheeks and I listened as John ended the call. "I know, son. I'll...I'll call you, okay?" he said, and after a few seconds, he fell silent again, and hung his phone up, then turned to look at me. "Grace, I'm sorry, but..."

I held a hand up. "I'm pregnant, alone and scared and I can't even tell the father. I don't want to hear it, John," I spoke coldly, running a hand through my hair.

He sat down next to me and shook his head. "You're not alone, Grace. I promised you that I'd help you. I will help. We can do this. And someday, Dean will be ready to know—" I couldn't take it anymore. I exploded into tears, leaning into John's shoulder and let all the tears out. I didn't want to hear him tell me that I didn't care if Dean was ready to know or not. And I didn't want to say that he deserved to know, even though he did. I stopped fighting. I just went along with what I was told to do, as always. That was me. John Winchester's expendable girl soldier. Who cared about my feelings or emotions or the baby that was going to come into this world without a father? Clearly not John. But now, he was all I had and I couldn't run away.

I was stuck. Because I was sure that Dean didn't want me back.


	9. Miracle

"Cadence—Mary—Winchester—Desrosiers..." I told John in a breathless voice when he asked me what I was going to name the baby. Cadence for my mother, Mary for Mrs. Winchester. And I wanted her to have a bit of her father, too, so I had decided to hyphenate her last name. I had gotten used to the whole 'I'm going to be a mommy' thing, and John had been amazing through it all. Bought me all the right vitamins and all the right foods...took me to Burger King at four in the morning when I craved a triple cheeseburger with extra pickles and mayonnaise and didn't get mad at me when I wouldn't eat it all. For the past nine months, John Winchester had been the best soon-to-be grandfather that I'd ever seen. And right then, it was continuing. He was calming me down by holding my hand and going through the lamas we'd learned...and God, I realized how lucky Mary Winchester had been.

"Push, Miss Desrosiers, we're almost there!" the doctor shouted at me, and I did, squeezing John's hand tightly and screaming in pain. I heard John telling me to keep breathing, but, god, the pain was so intense. I felt John's fingers twisting beneath the crushing strength of my hand, but right then, I didn't care. I screamed aloud as the pain crescendoed, and I knew that it was time. That my baby was coming out. That I was becoming a mother in this very second. All the muscles in my body went tight and the pain was almost blinding, but after a minute or so, it dulled, then subsided, and I opened my eyes. I heard a screaming cry—meaning my baby was alive. I felt a drop of sweat mix with my tears and crawl down my face, and I breathed a heavy breath, taking a quick glance up at the doctor, as he held my baby, and another approached to snip the umbilical cord.

John had a huge smile on his face as the doctors carried Cadence from the room, and I looked at him. I was supposed to be ecstatic, but the most I could bring myself to feel was happy, because Dean wasn't there. After all, this was only half me. This baby was made of half of Dean, too. But John was right. He couldn't have too many emotions clogging his judgment, and God knows that Dean was already an overemotional person. And knowing that he had a daughter out there to live for might make him make a fatal mistake on a hunt or something. Not that I didn't think it would happen to me. I was pretty sure, now that I was a mother, that my emotions would run wild. John told me that he had faith in me. That was good, because I wasn't sure I had faith in myself. "You did it, Grace..." he squeezed my arm and smiled.

I forced a smile and brought a hand over to place on John's. "Yeah, I did. But...I really wish Dean could have been here..." I swallowed hard and watched John's face fall. He looked—even slightly annoyed. But I didn't care. I didn't want to hear it. The father of my newborn child was God only knows where, doing God only knows what and God only know who. I wanted him there. With me. And our daughter...our daughter. Dean and I just had a baby. I forced away the sadness when I saw the doctors bring her into the room. They gave me the 'as far as we can tell, your baby is healthy' speech, and I smiled and held her in my arms. And for the first time, since Dean and I had been torn apart, I felt like I meant something. I touched her skin, watched as she just slept in my arms, and I was overcome with emotion. I tear streaked it's way down my cheek and I looked at John. He was about to say something, but I shook my head. "Can I have a couple minutes alone with her, please?" I asked.

John stared at me, and I think he was hurt. But I didn't care. For once, I wanted something for me. Some time alone with the baby that I had just pushed through my birth canal. I didn't think that was horridly unreasonable. Sure, he'd been a great cheerleader through this whole thing, and he'd been an even better caretaker, but...I wanted to just have a few moments with Cadence. Cadence Mary Winchester-Desrosiers. I watched John begrudgingly agree, and walk out of the room, standing by the door, and I was alone with Cadence. I looked at her and smiled. "You are so beautiful..." I whispered, trying to keep my voice calm, though my heart was about to explode with joy. For the first time since Dean and I were separated. I put a hand on her face, and bit my lip. "God...I don't even know how...how I deserve to have you in my life, you know that? But I am going to promise you right now...I'm going to protect you. Nothing bad will ever happen to you. Not so long as mommy is alive. I can't wait to hear you say that the first time. I know I have awhile to wait. But..." I reached the arm not cradling her up and wiped a tear from my eye.

"Wait until you meet your daddy..." I told her in a soft tone. "It might be a long time, honey, but I promise you that you'll meet him. I'm not going to let you go your whole childhood without knowing him," I noticed that she already had a full head of hair. I smirked. I'd been as bald as a cue ball when I was born, so that must have come from Dean. "He might not be the most emotionally mature person? But you know what? I know that the second he sees you? Realizes you're his? He will do anything under the sun for you. You, me and him...we'll be an amazing family, won't we, Cadence?" I grinned at her. "Don't think that just because he's not here, that mommy doesn't love him. She does. I want you to understand that. I love daddy with all my heart. I always have. But this...it just being you and me and grandpa for a few years? It's what's best for you. Why don't I let you meet him, huh?" I told her lightly as a doctor came into the room, almost as though it was on cue. "Um...can you send John back in?"

The doctor looked at me with a confused look on her face, and I shrugged. She bit her lip and showed me a sympathetic look. "Miss Desrosiers, Mr. Winchester told me that you knew that he was leaving. He told me to give this to you, though," she said as she handed me a small, folded piece of paper. "I have to bring your daughter back into the monitor room, okay?"

I took the paper from the doctor's hand and nodded at her, as she took Cadence from my arms. "Thank you," I said as I opened the note and watched her leave the room. Before I even got anywhere, I saw a large sum of money fall from the folded paper, and onto my lap. 'Grace, I'm sorry I had to leave like this. But I promise, I can make you understand. With me around, you and Cadence are targets. I'm taking the Impala to meet up with Dean in Indiana. If you can find a nanny? You can continue to hunt. Just make sure that they're qualified. I have to do this, and I'm sorry. But, I can't let anything happen to you and Cadence. I love you two, way too much to put you in that danger. Please take care of her. Love, John. PS: The money is to get you to Indiana, where your car will be in a small shop called Oleanders. And the rest is to start you off, until you can start hunting again.'

I stared at the note for a second and picked up the money. Five-hundred dollars. That wasn't going to last me too long. A rush of panic came over me, but I decided that, as soon as I got to Indiana, I'd start looking for a nanny. It couldn't be that hard, right?


	10. Dead Wrong

I saw out the window of the garage as the Impala pulled in, and I couldn't help but be even more confused. My dad had told me that we were going to meet up, start hunting together again. But what about Grace? Was she okay? Was she ready to hunt on her own, or did dad decide that he was bored of her and that it was time to come and make sure his stupid idiot son didn't fuck up too badly? Either way, I just wished that he had Grace with him. I stood up and walked toward the door, leaving the garage and standing face to face with the man who had stolen the love of my life from me. What was I supposed to say? Good to see you? No. Because there was someone else I'd rather see. I tried to come up with the right words, but they just escaped me. I'd never been the best with words, anyway. That was Sammy's forte. "Hi, dad," I pulled from my brain.

He smiled at me, and it was strange. Almost...proud. It was strange, because I had no idea where it had come from, but...I just took it as it was. "Hi, son..." he said to me in a soft tone, and he pointed to the car. I wasn't sure what was up with him, but it really looked...like he was hiding something from me. I followed him to the Impala when he turned and started to walk that way, and the moment of emotion that he had shown was gone in a blink of an eye. "I've heard a couple things about an abandoned school house in Kissimmee, Florida. That's where we're headed..." he told me, opening the driver's side door of the Impala.

I nodded and sat down in the passenger's seat. "How is Grace?" I asked him sadly. Sure, I'd decided that love was an emotion that I didn't want to feel. But I couldn't change that I loved Grace. I think I'd always have a soft spot in my heart for her. There would always be something for Grace Desrosiers in my heart, no matter where I went. No matter who I was with. I just wanted to know if she missed me. If she ever even thought of me. If she even cared. She'd probably moved on and fallen in love with another man. They were probably planning a family, and she probably thought that he was worth telling my dad off for, where I hadn't been. But...she was still...so much to me. If she came to me that day and said that she needed me, I'd give her whatever I had to. Grace was the last person to ever make me feel...anything.

He gave me a look, and I wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean. It looked...happy and sad and worried all in one, and in that second, I really started to worry about Grace. "She's okay," he told me. "She's ready to strike out on her own, I think..." he told me, running a hand over his hair as he started the car. So, what did that mean? That I suddenly was less ready to strike out on my own than I had been before? I wasn't sure what to say to him...what to think of what he was saying to me. He...wasn't making sense. But he'd stopped making sense to me a long time ago.

I looked out the window as the guy who owned the garage parked the Mustang. Was he just going to leave Grace's car here? I was...really confused. "I..." I stopped myself and looked out the window, but I'd had enough of stopping myself. "I want to see her, dad."

He shook his head. "No, son. You can't. I'm sorry," he gave me that 'father look.' Like nothing I could say was going to change his mind. "You can't see her. I...don't think it's a good idea," he pulled onto the interstate to head southeast to Florida.

I looked at him. Like I gave a microscopic flea's ass what he thought. It was a good idea. I was in love with—I stopped myself. I USED to be in love with Grace Desrosiers. I needed to see her again. "Dad, that's not fair," I glared at him. Why did he get to choose how I lived my life...who I lived it with?

"Life's not fair, Dean," he said quickly. "Fair is a state of mind that you should just give up on right now, because it's not going to happen in this profession," he said matter-of-factly.

I glared at him out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to be with Grace—or, at least I had. I didn't care what was fair and what wasn't. I should have at least been able to see her again. "That's fucking stupid," I said under my breath, with a glare in his direction.

He looked at me. "Dean. I know you're angry. And I know you love—"

"Loved," I changed that quickly.

"Loved...her..." he paused again. "But, son. Just trust me when I tell you that her being on her own right now is for the best. She is a strong woman. If anyone can make it on her own, it's her..." he told me.

Like that was supposed to make me feel better. I had no sense of closure. No way to find solace. No reason—from her—that she had just up and went with my dad. I wasn't sure if I'd ever be okay again if I didn't hear—from her—why she left me. I sounded pathetic saying this, and I fully realized it. But I felt like I deserved answers. I felt like...I was being wronged. Both my dad and the love of my life knew why I wasn't allowed to see the love of my life, and I didn't think it was fair at all. "But...she shouldn't have to be alone. We were doing fine together and—"

Dad shook his head. "No, son. Just forget about it, okay? The sooner you forget about her and try and get on with your life, the sooner you can—well, I guess you need to learn it on your own, Dean. Just, believe me, okay? This is for the best..." he told me, and I wanted to punch that concerned look right off his smug face. Instead, though, I let my eyes fall closed and I leaned back against the passenger's seat, preparing to try and sleep for the rest of the trip to Florida. I'd have to get over this anyway. If I had to go through all this with my dad from then on? I wouldn't want to constantly think of beating him senseless, would I?

I just...wish there was some way I could have known. Known if she ever...thought about me. I...just wanted to know if she was happy. Because I sure as hell wasn't, and maybe hearing that she was okay—maybe it would make it a little easier for me.


	11. Go

I sat on the stairs of the library, with my lunch in my lap. That woman at the soup kitchen had looked at me like I'd had three heads, but you know what? I really didn't care. I was always the youngest girl in those places. It wasn't my fucking fault that my parents died when I was little. And it also wasn't my fault that my foster parents were degenerate abusive assholes who decided that it was better for a sixteen year old girl to live on the streets than in their care. So, there I was, sixteen and penniless, taking shelter in covered front stoops and eating at food pantries and soup kitchens. I couldn't go to school anymore, because I couldn't afford it, but that was fine by me. I'd known of people who had lived on the streets like this for their entire lives, and had interesting stories to tell about it, so...I think I could do it. Maybe I'd become one of those standard issue street corner crazy women! I already seemed to look the part. People either thought I was a vampiress or a goth queen. No, it wasn't my fault that I was born with black hair. Or that I had really fair skin.

Not to mention the recent revelation I'd come to about myself. No, it wasn't one of those Lifetime movie things where I came to grips with the fact that I was a lesbian or whatever. I very much liked men. Not that I'd ever had a man to speak of, but...you get what I'm saying. But, I'd realized...that I could move things. With my mind. No, seriously. I was like, a bona-fide telepath. As if I wasn't enough of a freak already, add on a few mind melding powers. Seriously, at times, I didn't blame people for thinking I was a freak. And not only that, but...I could read minds when I wanted to. Yes, that was me. Piri Sullivan, freak of nature to the max. I sighed and finished the last of my turkey on wheat, standing up and going to take a walk through the park. That was how I passed my days sometimes. Just, walking through the park and watching in jealousy as happy families walked by. Kind of a miserable existence, but it was the life I led, so I'd deal with it.

I took a seat on a park bench and glanced up at a couple, my age, holding hands and standing at the pier of the Patoka Lake Park. Jealousy coursed through my veins, as, like I said, I'd never had a boyfriend to speak of, aside from stupid little kindergarten swing set kisses. I took out my notebook from my handbag and started to draw what I saw before me. The girl, the standard carbon copy of Britney Spears, and the boy, a true blue Ken doll, were holding hands and staring at the water as it rippled. I got halfway through the drawing, then scribbled it out with my sketch pencil and tore the page from my notebook, crumpling it and throwing it into the trash. I didn't need fake shit like that tarnishing the pages of my sketch pad.

Another glance around and I saw a young woman...well, she was probably older than me, but that was beside the point. She was pushing a stroller with what looked like a one or two year old baby, and she stopped and sat on a bench a few feet away from me. I listened closer and heard the baby crying, running a hand through my hair and grinning a little. Not because the baby was crying, but because the mother seemed...she seemed like a good mother. But she couldn't seem to get the baby to stop crying. I thought for a second. There were a couple toys that I carried from my childhood in my handbag, and I wondered if it would be creepy if I walked over there and offered one of them to the baby. I noticed that the mother was staring at me now, and I turned away sheepishly. _Well, that was smart, Piri._ I told myself. _Make yourself stalkery-looking, why don't you?_

I was about to get up and move on when I heard the baby's cry getting closer. Maybe she was just going to walk on by, but when I saw her sit on the bench with me, I looked at her shyly. "I'm sorry," I said softly. "I didn't mean to stare. I just...I love babies..." I felt heat rising to my cheeks, and I was sure that they were 9,000 different shades of red.

I saw her smile and look down at the stroller. "Her name is Cadence," she said as she took the blanket from the baby girl's face. I looked at her, now that she was closer, and saw that she had the most adorable hazel eyes, and a mussed mop of brown hair. Her skin was a bit of a lighter tone than her mother's, and I smiled a little. I glanced back up at her mother to see her looking at me. "...and mine is Grace."

I smiled as I looked at the mother, Grace, I now knew, and bit my lower lip. She was beautiful, too. But not in the standard, carbon copy, Britney Spears way that the girl by the pier was. She had curly black hair, skin the color of caramel and beautiful brown eyes. It made me wish I could be pretty like that. "Piri Sullivan," I told her. I noticed the baby still crying and reached into my bag to pull out a small, plush dog with felt eyes and a thread nose. No dangerous parts or anything. The only problem was that it might have been a bit dirty. "Do you mind?" I asked Grace. I watched her shake her head and leaned over the stroller, holding the toy out to the baby, smiling a little. "Here you go, sweetie. It's yours to keep..." I told her, and watched as she stopped crying, immersing herself in poking at the felt eyes of the dog instead.

Grace smiled at me and showed me an unbelievably grateful glance. "Thank you. She'd been crying since Minneapolis and I couldn't get her to stop..." she ran a hand through her hair. "Note to self, get more baby toys..."

I chuckled. "It's no problem...I figure I've grown out of it anyway, right?" I smiled at her. She wasn't creeped out by me. That was nice. I was about to say something else, when the sky seemingly tore open and it started to downpour all over Grace, Cadence and I. "Oh no...you better get her out of the rain..." I said as I put my sketch pad back in my bag.

Grace nodded her head and lowered the top on the stroller, smiling at me. "Thank you again, Piri," she told me. "Really..." she said, and rushed off toward a blue Mustang at the curb.

I smiled and nodded, but it faded when she ran off. I stood up and rushed over to the library again, taking shelter from the rain. I pulled my wet jacket tighter around me and curled into myself, staring out as the cars went by, pausing when I saw that blue Mustang pull up in front of me again. Grace got out and looked at me, standing beside the car so she wasn't too far from her baby. "Shouldn't you be going home?" she asked me.

I shrugged and bit my lower lip. "Um..." I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say to that. "I...don't exactly...have one," I stated simply, going shy again. She was virtually a stranger, but something about her...I just found her...trustworthy. I didn't think she'd laugh at me or make me feel like I'd done something wrong for it. And I didn't know why. She stared at me like she wanted me to keep going, so I did. "My mom and dad died, and I ran away from the foster home I was in because they weren't exactly...suitable."

She beckoned me down to the car. While I usually didn't get into cars with strangers, Grace seemed really nice. And I felt like I could trust her. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked down to the Mustang, taking a seat in the passenger's seat and looking at Grace as she sat on the driver's side. "Why don't I let you stay in the hotel room with Cadence and I tonight? It's not the Ritz, but it's not the library stoop, either..."

I stared at her in shock and smiled wide. "Really?"

She nodded and pushed her hair behind her ears. "I'm not exactly rich, so it will be minimal, but it's a warm place to stay and it's a cold night out..."

I nodded and bit my lower lip. "Thank you...seriously."

The next few hours were awesome. Grace and I talked—got to know each other, and God help me, I think I may have made a friend. I was acting like a girl should, giggling and talking about hair and clothes—which was something I'd never done in my life, but...it felt good. Grace looked at me, once she tucked Cadence in. "So...can...I tell you something? Without you getting freaked out?" she asked me. I nodded and she kept talking. "John would kill me if he found out that I was telling you this, but...I don't know, I feel like...I can trust you. I..." she paused, and she looked like she was trying to think of the right way to say something. "What's your opinion on, like, spirits and demons and evil things like that?"

I looked at her and shrugged. "Well...I don't know. My dad used to tell me when I was little that...my mom had been killed by something really weird. Like...she was pinned to the ceiling of my nursery, and she caught on fire. He said that it wasn't anything human that did it...and...my dad...I believed everything he ever told me..." I told her, not mentioning what I could do. I wasn't sure how she'd take that. "What, are you a paranormal investigator or something?"

She looked at me like I had two heads. "You...could say that..." she shrugged. "Only...I...God, you're gonna think I'm so..." she took a deep breath. "I kill them. Things like that. Bad spirits and demons...I exorcise or kill them..." she told my shyly. "And...I...have a friend...his mom died the same way. When he was four. His dad...he taught me how to hunt—demons and stuff," she said, taking a glance out the window.

"Was your friend...Cadence's father?" I asked her, and watched her turn and look at me like I'd read her diary.

"H—how did you—I didn't..."

I shook my head. "My turn to show you something...strange. Promise me...you won't freak out..." I pleaded with her.

She shook her head. "It...takes a lot to freak me out, Piri, I promise."

I looked around the room for something small that I could move, and noticed that Cadence had wriggled out of her blankets. I pointed at the baby. "Watch the blanket..." I said, and focused all my attention on the blanket, my eyebrows furrowing and my eyes narrowing. And, without moving from the chair, I pulled the blanket back up and tucked it around the baby. I saw Grace look at me in disbelief once again, and I looked around the room again. "Um..." I looked at my handbag, and focused all my attention on it instead. Slowly and carefully, I pulled the strap open, then opened the top, taking out my notebook and a pen, and setting them on the bed.

"Wh—what...how are you...doing that?" Grace asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. "With...my mind. That's not it, though. Um...think of a color. But...don't say it aloud," I said, and I watched her look up at the ceiling, seemingly in thought. I closed my eyes and tried to channel into what she was thinking. And sure enough, she was thinking of a color. "Red. No, blue. No...white. No...green. Grace...can you focus on...one color, please? You're giving me a headache."

She stared at me. "You...read minds?"

I nodded. "So, are you going to tell me to leave and don't ever talk to you again now?"

She shook her head no. "No. I hunt ghosts and demons, remember? Takes a lot to freak me out. Actually," she stopped for a second and took a seat in a chair across from me. "I was going to ask you...since you...don't have anywhere to go, or any reason to stay here? Would you like to travel with me? Watch Cadence while I hunt?" she asked me with a smile. "I'll pay you weekly. It won't be much. But...you know."

I think my jaw hit the floor. A chance to get out of Indianapolis? And it seemed to just fall from the sky? I smiled wide and nodded fervently. "Really? You mean it?" I asked, watching as Grace nodded, and throwing my arms around her in a grateful hug. "I'd love to," I smiled wide. I thought of it. Warm places to sleep again. People, seemingly nice people, to spend time with every day. A friend. In one day...thanks to one person...my whole life just...seemed to take a turn for the better.

And I had Grace Desrosiers to thank for that.


	12. Back to Good

I was told that maybe, the episode recaps in my fic were a bit boring. So I skipped them and went to the good stuff.  
I'd like to thank ADSigMel, February's Song, EmSyd and hunneybee100 for constantly reviewing. You guys keep me going, you know that? _hearts_

* * *

Seven years had passed since the day I'd met Piri. Seven years. I was twenty-seven now, and still not even near used to being a single mother, paying a twenty-three year old nanny to raise my child. I suppose that was something that not a lot of mothers could get used to, but I did the best I could, and I was almost certain that Cadence understood that. Besides, she and Piri were the best of friends to the point that Piri would sometimes let me skip payments, just because she enjoyed being around Cadence so much. And I swear to you, it was a Godsend. I don't think I'd ever seen the two of them fight, and it was absolutely fantastic. If I had to have another woman spend more time around my daughter than I could, Piri Sullivan was the perfect choice. Piri had even taken it upon herself to school Cadence, since I couldn't afford the public school system. I reminded myself to thank her properly, someday. 

That day, it had been a particularly rough hunt. I'd gone after a pack of werewolves, and almost gotten myself bitten a few times, instead coming out with a whole legion of scratches on my arms and a broken finger, thanks to a fall down a laundry chute to escape. It reminded me of a time when Dean and I were seventeen and running from a demonized nun and he fell into a hole that had been dug for a well, but never set up. He'd come out with, luckily, nothing but a broken finger. God, Dean. I still thought about him every day. After seven years. Sometimes, I'd look at Cadence, and in some of the little idiosyncrasies in her behavior, I swear, I saw Dean. The way she could always get me to do anything she wanted, no matter how inane or silly it was—yeah, I'd only had that with one other person, and you all know who that was. How many people could get me to air drum along with Neil Peart in the middle of a Chicago restaurant in the middle of the day? I'll give you a hint. No one since Dean.

I sighed as I turned off the ignition in front of the hotel. Hunting alone wasn't easy. When I had Dean, or even John, alongside me, I probably would have been able to get through that incident without even a scratch on me. And if there was, it would be small. But I'd done it, at least. I needed that much credit. I was about to step out of the Mustang to head into the hotel and patch myself up, when I heard the blaring sounds of Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran coming from my cell phone. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID. Uncle Bobby? I raised an eyebrow. He usually only called me when something was going on—something serious. "Hello?" I asked after I pressed the accept button.

"Grace...um..." his voice sounded shaky. And it was really weird, because even in serious situations, he always seemed to keep his head on straight and try to look at the calm side.

I rolled the window down, as it was cold for a night in July, especially in the Midwest. I stared at the hotel, toward the room that Piri, Cadence and I shared, and smiled a bit as I saw Cadence rush up to the window and look out at the car. She knew I was back. "Hey, what's up, Uncle Bobby? You don't...um, sound so good..."

He cleared his throat. The next words I heard...floored me. "Um...that's because I have some bad news, Grace. John? He...he died."

I swear, in that second, I knew what tunnel vision looked like. My eyes were wide, and I couldn't focus on anything but the window in front of me, and Cadence's face, with Piri's, as she joined alongside her. "Wh—what?" I asked. Maybe...maybe it was a joke. Or, maybe someone had jumped to a conclusion without having all their facts straight. "Are...are you—"

"Yeah, we're sure...Grace, we need you here. Dean...he won't talk to no one and...we think he's gonna explode..."

I didn't need to hear anymore. "Is he at the Roadhouse?" I asked, getting out of the Mustang and heading toward the hotel. The tears were playing at the corners of my eyes, but I couldn't let them fall. Not right then, because Cadence...she'd know that something was up. And I couldn't...I couldn't tell her that Grampa...the man who always brought her presents on birthdays and Christmases and came to see her once every couple months or so was dead. I heard my uncle mumble a yes, and I took a deep breath. "We're in Montana. So, we should be there sometime tomorrow afternoon, okay? Try and, like, keep him together that long, please..." I said, taking the phone from my ear and hanging it up as I got a bit closer to the door. I opened it, and Cadence threw her arms around me happily.

"Mommy!" she pulled back from the hug and looked at me. "Are you okay, mommy?"

I saw Piri, without hesitation, go for the first aid kit and stopped her. "No, we don't have time, Piri. Guys, we have to get on the road right now, okay?" I asked, looking from one confused face to the other. "We have to go to Kansas. I..." I looked down at Cadence, and the confused look on her face. God. I...couldn't hide it from her. I knelt down in front of her and looked up at her, as she stood a couple of inches taller than me this way. "Cadence, sweetie..." I paused, digging in my brain for the right words. God...how did I tell her this? "Grampa Winchester. Something happened and...he—he's..."

"He's dead, isn't he?" she asked me with a sad look in her eyes, her lower lip quivering a bit. I was a bit shocked at how she just blurted it out like that, but I nodded slowly. I felt her arms wrap around my neck loosely, and she started crying against my shoulder.

Piri bit her lower lip and started collecting some of Cadence's toys from the floor, putting them in our duffel bags, getting us ready to go. I swear by God, someone had been looking out for me the day they brought that girl into my life. I pulled back from the hug a little and pushed a bit of Cadence's hair from her face. "But you know what, honey? This...isn't all bad. You know why?" I asked, and she showed me an even more confused glance. "You...now you get to meet your daddy."

I saw her face light up a bit, though the tears were still playing at the corners of her eyes. "Really?" I asked, as she threw her arms around me and buried her face in the crook of my neck.

Piri had finished throwing all of our things into bags. I looked at her and showed her a silent thank you. "Yeah, it's time, honey. You just...have to listen to mommy, first. It might not be right away, because mommy needs to talk to him..." I put a hand on her cheek and smiled a little bit. "You promise you'll listen to me?"

She nodded, and we all made our way out to the car, Piri and I carrying the bags. Cadence sat in the back, and Piri offered to sit with her, to try and console her. I smiled and nodded my head, watching the two of them share a long embrace in the backseat, eventually falling asleep that way. I glanced quickly at the two of them in the rear view mirror and bit my lower lip. God, John was...I felt a couple of tears making their way from my eyes and thought of how many times that man had been there for me. Though, sure, he hadn't always been the best guy, he had always had the best intentions at heart. For me, for Sam and for Dean. Dean. God, the guy had no one but his little brother now. Well, and me. And Cadence. I knew how Dean dealt with things like this. The same way John did, most likely. Locking himself into a little shell, blocking out every negative thought. Trying to maintain normalcy while all along he was dying on the inside. The thought made me want to drive faster, but I remembered that I wasn't alone in the car and I kept it at a slow roll, watching as the Montana border passed by. We still had a long way to go, but I didn't care. I'd drive through the night and the entirety of the next day if I had to.

Maybe the reunion wasn't going to be what I planned. But it was Dean. So I didn't care. I just...wanted to see him again. To make the pain seem a little less. God knows I owed it to him.


	13. Weight of the World

I stared at the underside of the car, not really doing too much. I was just...staring blankly at all the parts, though I knew what I was doing—and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do or say. I just...I didn't want to be around people. The only person I ever had, at least of those who were always there when I needed him. Maybe he wasn't always the best person to have around, because he'd do just about everything to make sure that things went the way he wanted them to, and didn't care who he hurt to get there, but I guess...that's what made him my father. And that's what made me love him. God, the past month or two had been utter hell. Sam...had found out that I had slept with Page, and God, it had been so...awkward since then. Rides to and from anywhere were completely silent, and whenever Sam and I talked, we fought. And he wouldn't talk to Page at all. And Page wouldn't talk to me, because Sam had stopped talking to her. So, I was alone. As usual. Sure, it was something I should have been used to, but...God, I couldn't do it. Not alone.

I don't even know why I'd slept with Page. It wasn't like I actually felt anything for her. Not that I'd felt anything for any of the women that I'd been with over the past year or so. Aside from Cassie. And even she was just a substitute. But in the second before we kissed for the first time, I just...I don't even know. We'd both thought that Sam had moved on, and we felt about as wanted as the old piece of gum you have to scrape off the bottom of your shoe. So we commiserated. Maybe not in the best way. And we both put ourselves into a horrid position in doing so. I didn't hate her. Nor did I blame her for hating me. I'd hate me, too, if I were her. And if I were him. But...Christ, I needed someone right then. And even if by some miracle twist of fate they both forgave me? I couldn't dump on them as soon as things got back to...not quite normal. I sighed and looked at the car, preparing to finally get started when I heard a voice behind me.

"You were right..."

I brought my head from beneath the hood and looked. It was Sam. He was speaking to me? What did he mean, I was right? I looked around and saw Page standing by the door of the Roadhouse. I wasn't sure what Sam meant, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. "About what?" I asked, watching as he bit his lip.

"About me and dad," he said simply, and I looked away, toward the ground. "I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking that I hate him. So you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late. I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all. But neither are you. That much I know..." he continued, and I glanced up at him. How in the hell did HE know that I wasn't all right? I was fine. So he could take that thought and stick it up his—I stopped myself. "And...about what happened with Page? I..." he paused and looked at the ground, then back up at me. "...forgive you," he said. Like that would make all the problems in the world dissolve. "I'll let you get back to work."

I watched as he started to walk away, and my hands were closing into fists. Maybe I didn't deserve forgiveness. Maybe I didn't deserve to be told that everything would be okay. Maybe I deserved to have the people that I loved taken away from me, one by one. Maybe I—I didn't fucking know. I shouted at the top of my lungs and grabbed a metal bar from the ground, turning and smashing it into the windshield of the Impala, and then hit the hood of a nearby car. Once wasn't enough. By about the fifth smash, I still didn't feel I'd fully channeled all my rage, but...I was tired. I was about to turn and look at the sky, but when my eyes scanned the area...I stopped. A woman stood there, watching me, with her lower lip in her mouth. It looked like—JUST like...no. There...was no way it could be. It couldn't. I tried to say her name, but at first, my voice was choked in my throat. The second time I tried, though, I think it came out sounding like a mouse was inhabiting my voice box. "Grace?"

She looked at me, those chocolate colored eyes melting my facade of strength with every second that they stared into me. "Hi, Dean..." she said, a sad smile on her lips. She knew. So...that was what made her come back. I should have been angry. I should have been. But...I couldn't. I didn't have it in me right then.

I wasn't sure where to start. "Uh..." I dragged from my brain. "Hi..." I spoke. Eloquent. But I didn't care. I was face to face with the love of my life, who I never thought I'd see again. And...the words were just gone.

She walked toward me, and when she approached, I noticed that it looked like she'd been in a battle with a lawnmower and lost. Her arms were all cut up, there was a slice on her cheek, and her middle finger was in a shoddy little, makeshift, homemade cast. "I...heard about your dad, Dean," she said in a soft tone as she came closer to me. "I'm sorry..."

I tried not to let myself fall. Tried avoiding her eyes. I couldn't let myself do it. But, God, those eyes. I felt the lump in my throat start to choke me, and before I knew it, I had my arms around her. And I was leaned down, breaking into pieces against her shoulder. Crying uncontrollably. I couldn't stop the flow of tears, no matter what I tried. "It's...not fair..." I gasped for air in mid-sentence, and clutched to the back of her shirt, like I was afraid that she was going to run away. Well, I couldn't be sure, actually. But I...wasn't mad about that right then, because she was there and she was consoling me, holding me and making me feel like I wasn't completely alone. "He—he was...all I had..." I said, keeping my face buried against her. "I—I can't...keep losing people, Grace...I..."

She looked at me, and caressed my cheek with her hand, wiping my tears with her thumb. And that touch...it just...soothed me. But...what if she left again? I pushed away from her. "You...you left. And you...why should I—why don't you just l—leave again? You want to. I know it," I spoke coldly, not caring if I hurt her. She'd hurt me, so why should I care? I looked away and closed my eyes, blinking the tears back.

She didn't say anything, and I looked at her, wondering why she wasn't breaking down and trying to make it better. "...I..." she closed her eyes. "I deserve that. And probably whatever else you have to throw at me. But...Dean...I'm sorry. For everything. For not calling you. For just leaving like I did. Especially with what I know now..."

I assumed that she meant 'what she knew' about my father. "You just left. You didn't even think about staying. And I didn't hear from you for nine years. Nine fucking years, Grace...what am I supposed to think? I mean, hell...I love you. Er...I mean loved. I LOVED you..." I tried to recover, but...it was true, and I knew it. I loved her to that very day. Seeing her? Right then? Reminded me. Reminded me of how I felt when we used to spend every waking moment together.

She bit her lip. "Dean...you can...blame all your problems on me. I don't care. Blame it on me. I probably deserve every last bit of it. But...I ask one thing of you..." she leaned back against a nearby car. "Aside from following your father? Which I realize, yes, was a huge deal, have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?"

I scoffed at her. "How fucking dare you say that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and pointed at her. "You don't fucking know what I've been through over the past--"

"AND YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH EITHER, DAMNIT!" she shouted at me. "Come with me. We're going for a ride."

I took a couple steps away from her. "Fuck you, Grace," I spat. As if she had any fucking right to act like I owed her anything at all.

"NO! Dean, come here," she grabbed my arm and yanked back. "Just...this one thing, okay? And if you still want to run, I give you permission. Please..." she seemed desperate.

And those eyes. God, I could never say no to those eyes. "Fine," I said, and followed her to where the Mustang was parked. So many good times were had in that car. I sat in the passenger's seat and tried as hard as I could not to look at her, as we made our way to wherever it was she was taking me. This was...this was a whirlwind. And I didn't even know how out of control it was going to get.


	14. My Immortal

I didn't blame him for reacting the way he did. I'd all but disappeared on him, didn't even bother to tell John that I thought what he was asking me to do was wrong. So, I got what I deserved when he'd tried to push me away. But that didn't change that it stung. And that the fact that he thought that he was the only one who had gone through emotional turmoil over this...just outright hurt. But I would have been just plain stupid if I thought that he and I were just going to fall into each others arms like a pair of star-crossed lovers, scorned by fate. A part of me had hoped for it, but I think, deep down, I knew better. The tension in the air could have been cut with a butter knife, and I really hoped that introducing him to Cadence would have the desired effect.

The ride was silent. Well, what did I expect? Him to just...be overjoyed that we were together again and just forget...that I'd left all but unannounced? No, I didn't expect that, because that would be too stupid. I ran a hand through my hair as I stopped the car, and glanced toward the window, only to see Cadence rush up again. I smiled. She was so cute when she was excited. She had her daddy's kid in a candy store eyes, that was for sure. I watched Dean turn and look at me, the hurt on his face tearing through me like a knife. I met his eyes and tried not to cry, biting my lower lip, hard, and breathed in before saying, "We're here. Come with me, please..." I said as I opened the door to the Mustang and got out. I looked at him, and he got out of the car slowly. I could feel him watching me, but I didn't say anything. Just walked toward the hotel room slowly.

He finally spoke up. "You're not gonna, like, try and fuck me into forgiving you, are you?" he asked me with an amused, and slightly sarcastic, grin on his face.

I scoffed. "No. And watch your mouth..." I said, since we were right outside the door to the hotel room and I didn't want Cadence's first impression of her dad to be a curse word. I opened the door, and as though on cue, Cadence rushed up and threw her arms around me. "Mommy!" she greeted me, and in the reflection to the sliding glass door, I saw Dean looking at us in confusion.

I smiled and smoothed her hair back. "Hi, sweetie," I pulled back from the hug and looked at her. "This is..." I looked at her and winked while my back was still turned to Dean. "...mommy's friend. His name is Dean Winchester. Dean, this is Cadence. And that's her nanny, Piri..." I said as I looked at Dean with a shrug, wondering if he'd have one of those 'father meets child' moments where he'd just...know it instantaneously. But given the blank expression on his face, that obviously wasn't going to happen.

Dean looked at Cadence for a second, and I thought that maybe my suspicions were wrong, but he smiled at her. Though the look on his face was more confused than fatherly. He wasn't saying anything so, Cadence, being mommy's girl, spoke up instead. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester..." she said innocently, but she flashed me a knowing glance.

I suppressed a snicker and Dean shook his head 'no.' "Call me Dean..." he said, and it looked like he was at a loss for any other words. And he was looking at me angrily.

I glanced from him to Cadence. "Um, mommy needs to talk to Dean outside for a little bit, okay? Why don't you get ready to go to bed and then we can all watch TV for a little while or something," I said to her, watching as her face went pouty. "Mommy really has to talk to him, okay? It's important..." I said, winking at her again, hoping that she'd get the point.

Cadence nodded and walked over toward Piri, and I nodded toward the sliding glass door. Dean, hands in his pockets and an annoyed glare on his face, followed. Once we got outside and I closed the door behind me, Dean opened his hands in a 'what the hell' type of motion. "This was supposed to explain to me why you never called me? Or came to see if I was okay until my father died? Hate to tell you, Grace, but I'm still in the fucking dark. Aside from the fact that some schmo got you knocked up and you decided that it would be fun to rub it in my face."

I felt my shoulders slump, and it was probably visible, too. "Dean. The last time we saw each other was nine years ago, right?" I asked, and watched as he nodded. "Well...Cadence? She's nine years old," I explained, wondering if that would make him understand.

"So you went and got yourself knocked up as soon as you left?" he spat. I stared at him blankly for a second. Apparently, subtlety was lost on him. _He can't really be that ignorant. _I told myself. _No, wait. This is Dean Winchester. He can be and he is, in fact, that ignorant. _I was about to say something, but apparently, Dean wasn't done talking yet, either. "I don't fucking know what gives you the right to just come back into my life at a time when I have ENOUGH FUCKING SHIT to go through, and you just add MORE shit. That's really fucking insensitive and I really thought you were better than that," he glared at me. I was about to open my mouth to speak, once again, and he kept talking. "I mean, it's bad enough that my dad died and I just found out that if my brother ever turns evil I have to kill him, but then the only woman that I ever--"

"Dean, Cadence is yours..." I said in a soft tone, wondering at first if he even heard me.

"...loved comes ba—wait..." his eyes widened, and he looked at me like I'd just told him that he was to be sacrificed to the ugliest, nastiest demon this side of hell. "Wait, what?"

I took a deep breath when he finally shut up. "Cadence. She's yours. You're the only person I was with that year, Dean..." I told him softly. I wasn't sure how he'd react to it, but...at least it was out there now. "Cadence's full name? Cadence Mary Winchester-Desrosiers..." I explained to him. "She was born on November twenty-ninth of ninety-eight, which is exactly nine months after we last saw each other. I'd have told you, Dean. But...your dad wouldn't let me..." I watched as he glanced through the sliding glass door, where Cadence rushed by to turn the TV inside the hotel room. "...and I didn't know how you were gonna react..."

He stared at her as she sat on the floor, and Piri walked up beside her, sitting down. The both of them burst out into a fit of giggles over the episode of Spongebob they were watching, and I think, in that second, I saw a tinge of fatherhood in Dean's eyes. He looked from Cadence to me. "You mean...I—we, I mean...made that? Her? She's..." he turned his gaze back toward Cadence.

"...your daughter..." I told him with a small smile. I wasn't sure, but I think I'd been right in thinking that knowing that Cadence existed would solve all of Dean's problems. "Our daughter. She's half of you and half of me..."

Dean stared. "Half of me..." he whispered. "Cadence. Pretty name..." he told me softly. "You...you're sure that she's..." I nodded and took a step closer to him, and he turned and looked at me. "I...would have liked to know..." he said in a softer tone. He sounded more hurt than angry right then.

I nodded and ran a hand through my hair. "I know. I'm sorry, Dean," I promised him. "I really am. I did want to tell you. And not a day has passed since your father left to come and join you on the hunt that I haven't wanted to. But...until now? I wasn't sure how you'd take it. I thought that, maybe you wouldn't want us. And then I thought you'd be angry...and then...I thought that...you'd be mad that I kept it from you. But she knows you're her daddy, Dean. I...told her. A lot. I told her that you were good at making people laugh, and making me smile...she loves you already," I told him, and watched his face. He looked like he was going to cry again. "You can blame everything on me, if you want to. You can be angry at me. Hate me, whatever. But...I'd really like you to be a part of Cadence's life. She needs a daddy..."

He turned and looked at me. "I don't hate you..." he simply said, the tears playing at the corners of his eyes like a piano. I felt my heart start beating again when he said that, too, because I loved Dean too much for him to hate me. "I wanted to, but I can't. I've tried so many times to hate you, but...you are just...we had something, and denying that would make me about as stupid as everyone thinks I am. I'm just...hurt, that's all."

I looked at him for a second, and I felt tears in the corners of my eyes, too. "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't fix it, but I am. I was wrong, and I know it, but...I want to make it right. I want to fix it...I want you and Cadence to..." I paused. "Dean, I have an idea," I looked over toward Cadence. "What if I start hunting with you and Sam? Piri watches Cadence while I'm out hunting, and let's just say—she can handle herself against demons or anything else that comes her way. What if we all work as a team?"

He looked at me, surprise falling over his face. "Okay," he said simply. "You're sure that Piri can—"

I nodded and bit my lip, remembering the time I'd come home to a trashed hotel room, a crying Cadence and Piri with a broken arm. She'd fought off a shapeshifter by herself. It was disguised as me, and she'd fallen for it until the shapeshifter started to try and hurt Cadence. Then she'd used her telekinesis and the handgun that I kept in a chest of drawers to kill it, and she and Cadence hid in the bathroom, just in case. "I'm sure. I know first hand...she's capable. And she will fight if she has to."

He nodded his head and bit his lip. "Okay then. I'll tell Sammy and Page...tomorrow. C—can I go talk to her?" he asked me.

I nodded and leaned against a tree as he walked toward the door, part of me wondering what Page was doing hunting with he and Sam, but I didn't have any right to ask, as I'd brought a virtual stranger with Cadence and I. "Send Piri out here if you want to..." I told him, and watched as he looked over his shoulder and smiled at me. He looked at Piri and told her to come outside, and she did, giving off a small smile on the way.

"How'd he take it?" she asked me, running a hand through her long, black hair.

I shrugged and looked at Dean as he sat down beside Cadence and started to watch cartoons with her. "A lot better than I had expected, that's for sure..." I told her, wiping my eyes of the few tears that had managed to escape. "We're going to start traveling with he and Sam, and Sam's best friend Page..." I told her. "I think we're gonna need to take a couple of days first, though..." I explained with a nod toward the door, when I saw Cadence reaching up to wipe the tears from Dean's cheeks, then hugging him. And the tears I'd wiped away? Were back.

I had my family. A little unorthodox, maybe, but I didn't care, because it was a family and it was mine.

Oh, and Dean was there.


	15. You and Me

I looked at her face through the window, my eyes wide. This was...half of me? I had come together with Grace to make that? A beautiful little girl. God, she was precious. I didn't know that it was possible for brown eyes to be bright, but they were. And she was...so smart. Too smart to be mine. I was the first to admit that had been...less than blessed when it came to brains. Maybe, for that reason, it was better that Grace had raised her. I watched as the nanny walked past me and out to Grace and shut the sliding glass door behind me. Cadence glanced up at me and smiled, her pearly smile almost sending me to my knees. She looked back at the cartoon nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just taken what was left of my heart and put it in her own, and I had all I could do not to go weak in the knees. But I was her dad; wasn't that was I was supposed to do? I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't get a chance to finish. "Are you okay?" she asked me.

Funny question, that was. I was awesome, because I had just gone from feeling like nothing to feeling like the most important man on the planet in a matter of seconds. I smiled and nodded, sitting down next to her. "Um, so...I just talked to your mom. And...she told me that you...knew that I'm your..." I bit my lip. "...your daddy?" I asked, a nervous look coming to my face, in case she didn't know. She nodded and I think I finally breathed again. I knelt down beside her and she put her arms around my neck, hugging me, but not too tightly. I hugged her, and I felt the tears flowing down my cheeks. This was my daughter. Her arms around me—it felt right. "I'm so glad that I finally met you, Cadence, honey."

She pulled back from the hug and brought a tiny hand up to my cheek to wipe the tears away. And my whatever was left of my heart melted. All I could do was smile. "I am too, daddy," she said. And while it sounded sort of strange, it was a welcome strangeness. I was a little girl's daddy. She was going to depend on me. For the rest of her life. "Mommy promised me that we'd meet someday. She told me that you were a sucker for little kids, too..." she giggled. That giggle...it sounded like music. It was strange what a nine-year-old could do for a person's soul. Especially when that person helped create her.

I smiled wider than I recalled doing in a really long time. "She did, did she?" I asked, taking a quick glance out toward the tree Grace was leaning against. She was talking to Piri, crying a bit but smiling. I looked back toward Cadence. "So, mommy told me that you, she and Piri are gonna come with your uncle Sammy, his friend Page and I when we go—" I paused. Did she know we hunted? Or had Grace tried to shelter her from that. I didn't know, and I didn't want to be the one to break it to her if she didn't know.

"...hunting?" she asked, looking out the window at Grace. I nodded. So Grace had told her. She was a good mother—preparing her for everything. "Mommy told me what she does. She told me that she helps people. And that's why I can't be in school like other kids," she nodded her head. "I don't mind, anyway. Piri is really smart and she's a good teacher."

I looked out at Piri. She didn't look the part of great, wise mentor and advisor, but she seemed nice enough. And Cadence seemed to think the world of her. "Yeah. Mommy and I used to hunt together," I explained, watching as she nodded. Grace had told her a lot, already. "Honey, I am sorry I didn't come and find you and mommy sooner. If I had known..." I looked at her. I didn't want her to think I had just abandoned her. If I had known—well, I wasn't sure if I'd have been a good dad or not. Maybe I'd have freaked out like Grace thought I would have. Maybe I wouldn't have believed it. So, maybe Grace had made the right decision. Maybe, at eighteen, I wasn't ready to be a dad yet. I probably still wasn't ready, but I didn't have a choice, now, because I was going to be a part of Cadence's life. I was going to be her father. So, I'd make myself ready. And fast.

She shook her head. "It's okay. I knew you were out there, and mommy said that someday we'd see each other. She promised, and mommy never breaks a promise..."

I smiled at her, and turned toward the window to see that Piri was coming back into the room. She bit her lip and looked at me nervously. "Dean...Grace wants to talk to you," she told me, and came into the room all the way.

I didn't know why she was acting so nervous, but I nodded and stood up. "I'll be right back, okay?" I told Cadence with a small smile, and walked outside to see Grace, my heart still feeling as though it could explode any second. "God, Grace...she's..." I tried to think of a word for it, but I'd never been great with words, so it escaped me.

Grace nodded and smiled proudly. "I know. I don't even have a word for it," she told me, taking a glance in to see Piri and Cadence falling into a fit of giggles. "Dean...I'm sorry. I really am. I know I can't expect to just...pick up where we left off—"

"...not that where we left off was a very good place..." I added quickly. We'd left off arguing and trying to hate each other. That wasn't a very good place to be.

"Right..." she looked down. "I...just want you to know...for me? I never stopped...um, no. That's not the right way to...um..." she looked off to the left, then back at me for a second. "There will always be something...for you. God, I'm not even making sense..." she turned red and looked away. "I...don't have any idea how to say what I want to...say."

I looked at her and shook my head. "It's okay. M—me too..." I said, moving toward her a bit. "I mean, it would be stupid to just...try and pick up where we left off—before all the fighting and before you told me you were...leaving. But...can we...start over? Maybe take a second stab at things? Because...I mean..." I paused. I didn't want to say that we had to. Because we didn't. We could be friends and raise a kid together. "I...never stopped, either," I told her. I didn't want to say _that_ again, either. Because the last time I'd said _that_, I'd ended up alone. But it was what I meant. I felt Grace's hand on my face, and grinned a little. That...even with a simple touch, I felt something. It had been the first feeling that wasn't autopiloted since she left. Sure, she had hurt me. But...she was...trying to protect me. And that was one of the most common ways that people got hurt, I knew that.

She looked like she could break down in tears. "I missed you, Dean..."

I think the proper words in that instance would have been 'me too,' and I was thinking them—at least part of my brain was. But the other part was screaming for me to just kiss her. I went with that part, pulling her to me and smoothing some hair out of her face and pressed our lips together. The kiss was...just as I remembered it, and I swear, I had never felt anything like it. Not since we split apart. I bit my lip as we broke apart for air. "I missed you too, Grace."


	16. Bother

The next few months seemed to fly by like we'd hopped into a time machine. Dean and Cadence were like a father and daughter should be, and though Dean and I had our moments, we were the mother and father I always thought we'd be, too. Piri and Sam were closer than Piri and I had ever been, and Page and I had gotten past our differences to become friends. Our differences were petty, anyway. She was resentful of Piri for her close friendship with Sam—until she found out why they were so close, and that seemed to just take the resentment and, at least try to let it go. She was trying, and I gave her credit for that. She and I fought, and almost got ourselves, Dean and Cadence killed, and after that—after Sam and Piri saved our asses, we just let it go. Realized that by not working together, we were endangering ourselves and the people we loved. And since then, we'd become close friends. Things seemed to just...work like clockwork from that point on.

That is, until, well, all hell broke loose. We had gotten to where we needed to be. Saw Sam and Piri, and they ran at us. Dean and Page hugged Sam and Cadence and I clung to Piri, and Uncle Bobby stood back, surveying the scene a bit. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw—"Sam!" I shouted, but I wasn't quick enough. Some kid took a knife and dug it into Sam's back...and twisted it. He glanced at Piri, gave her an 'I'm watching you' signal, then took off. I pushed out of the hug with Piri, and Uncle Bobby and I exchanged glances, and took off in a run after him. "HEY! STOP!" I screamed after him, grabbing my gun from my hip. We tore off into the woods, and I gave Uncle Bobby a hand signal, telling him that we needed to split apart, and we did. He ran right and I ran left. I searched through the woods, until I came to a clearing. And...there was still no sign of him. If I hadn't found him by then, I wasn't going to.

I hurried back through the woods, and on my way there, I realized that, with the injury he'd just sustained, there was no way that Sam Winchester could still be—I bit my lower lip, hard, and shuddered at the thought. Cadence wasn't going to get the chance to know Uncle Sammy as an uncle. Because Dean had insisted that we keep it from him, for now. Page was going to...oh God, the poor girl was going to go insane. I met up with Uncle Bobby a ways into the woods. "You realize that Sam is..." I paused. He nodded and took his cap off, running a hand through his hair. "Dean is going to spin out of control, isn't he? Probably do something stupid?" I asked, though I knew the answer. Uncle Bobby knew that, too, and he didn't answer me. We just walked together out of the woods, to see Sam and Page, kneeling on the ground and hugging Sam's limp body, and Piri on the sidelines, hugging Cadence and trying to calm her.

Uncle Bobby walked up to Dean and looked at him, telling him that we needed to get into the nearby cabin, in case that Jake kid came back. Dean looked at him numbly and obeyed, lifting Sam's body from the ground. I looked at his face—at the total lack of emotion, and worried. I glanced at Piri, who was trying to calm Cadence down, and nodded into the cabin, too. She nodded and wiped some tears from her eyes, leading Cadence inside. I looked at Page, who was kneeling alone, staring at the ground in front of her. I walked up to her slowly, crouched down, and put a hand on her arm. She looked at me, confused. She still hadn't grasped what was going on, I could tell that from her face. "Page…come on. We're all gonna go into that house over there, okay?" I asked, pulling her to her feet and keeping my arm around her as we walked inside.

We all went inside, and stood around, each of us wearing a different expression. Dean's was angry. As was expected. Piri looked guilty, and I didn't understand it. Maybe there was something that I didn't know, but I wasn't going to pry right then. Uncle Bobby was worried. And I probably was, too. And Cadence...my little angel...she was just sad. Sad that her Uncle Sammy was dead, and that she could never call him 'Uncle Sammy.' Sad that Piri was crying. And scared too. Scared because daddy wasn't talking. Scared because mommy couldn't take daddy's pain away with a touch like she always did. I looked at Uncle Bobby. "Take Cadence and Piri back to the Salvage Yard, please..." I told him, and I saw Piri about to open up and object, but I walked toward her and put my hands on her shoulders, squaring her to me. "Listen, Piri, I know you want to be here. But...I don't want Cadence to be here, okay? She needs to...sleep. And she won't be able to if she's here. Just...please, do this for me."

Piri nodded, and her bleary eyes met mine. She didn't want to talk to anyone, which I didn't quite understand, since everyone in this room knew that she'd been victimized almost as much as Sam had. She rushed out the door and sat in Uncle Bobby's truck. I leaned down and put a hand on Cadence's cheek. "Mommy's gotta stay with daddy tonight, okay? But I don't want you to be here. Just in case the guy who hur—" I saw the look she was giving me, like she really knew what was happening. "...killed Uncle Sammy comes back. Just go stay with Uncle Bobby and Piri. They'll make sure no one hurts you, okay? I promise."

She nodded and hugged me. "I love you mommy..." she whimpered into my ear, and I pulled away from the hug, looking into her eyes. "Take care of daddy, please. He's...really mad and...I don't want him to get hurt."

I nodded and smoothed her hair out of her face. "I will sweetie. Mommy loves you. Just go get some sleep..." I said, and looked at Uncle Bobby as he led her to the truck, then turned to Dean, walking toward him. I put a hand on his arm, and he looked at me as though I'd just shot his puppy. A sob caught in my throat, but I had to hold it together. Remind myself that the two people with me had to cry a little more than I did. I put a hand on his face and wiped a tear away, and he turned away from my touch. I couldn't blame him, though. I decided that, maybe, right then was a good time to focus my energy on Page. Trying to make her...a little less—I didn't even know what. I walked over to her chair and knelt in front of her. "Do you want to...talk?"

"No," she said simply, not peeling her eyes from where they laid Sam's corpse. And I wasn't going to pry. I wasn't going to make either of them talk. Instead, I just walked over and sat in a corner, my face in my hands. John would not be proud of me right then. He would be telling me that I failed, telling me that he was ashamed. I looked up at Sam's corpse and thought of Piri. That guy was going to go after her. She wasn't safe. Especially since now, he seemed to be siding with the demon. Meaning if what John told me was true, his power would progress and he'd become increasingly dangerous. My plate had just filled, overfilled and was spilling onto the floor. Be a mother to Cadence. Keep Dean and Page sane. Keep Piri safe. Keep myself alive. I was now responsible for five people. That was a lot for anyone to handle.

I leaned against the wall and prepared to not sleep, keeping an eye on Dean and Page to make sure that neither of them did anything stupid. God knows, they both would run off and kill themselves or make a suicide pact if I turned my back for a second. It was a quiet and slow night, and really creepy with Sam's body laying motionless on the other side of the room. I swallowed hard and frowned. Sam...he was a really nice guy. And Piri thought the world of him. It wasn't fair that this had happened to him. The other guy? Jake? He was going to get it, if I had anything to say. I sighed silently, so that neither of them would think that I was disrespecting them for their manner of grieving and looked at my watch. Five a.m., which meant that the sun was going to come out, and we were going to have to figure out where we were going to go from there. I swallowed nervously and looked at Dean, about to open my mouth when I saw a figure walking past the window. I drew my gun and stood, waving Page and Dean to stay where they were, and walked up to the door. I opened it slowly, and breathed a quick sigh of relief when I saw that it was only Uncle Bobby. "Hey...what's up?"

"Cadence..." he said simply. "She wants you there. Says she can't sleep. She needs either you or Dean and I know that Dean ain't moving..." I beckoned him to come inside. He looked at Dean, then over to Page. I knew my uncle. He'd bring it up so I didn't have to. And he didn't fail me. "Dean...I hate to bring this up, I really do. But don't you think maybe it's time...we bury Sam..."

Dean and Page both practically broke their necks with how fast they turned and glared at him. "No," they both said quickly.

"We could..." he paused to sigh. "Maybe..."

Page looked at him indignantly. "What? Torch his corpse? No!" she shouted.

I took a couple steps toward Page and decided that maybe I should speak up, too. "Guys, maybe you should...come with us. We can..."

"I'm not going anywhere," Dean spoke abruptly.

Page shook her head and stood up. "Me either," she said, approaching Sam's body quickly.

"Please, guys," Uncle Bobby pleaded.

"I don't need this shit," Dean glared at the two of us. "You should understand, Grace. Sam is...he's my brother, okay? Before you came back, he was all I had. He's the only FAMILY I have. You should understand this. You expect me to just get up and—no. No. I'm not gonna do it. Just fucking leave. Both of you. The only one who fucking gets this is Page."

I paused and closed my eyes. Dean's words stung. And I was angry for a second. Angry that he'd forgotten all about Cadence. But...Sam was his little brother. I remembered him telling me that he sometimes felt like Sam was his son, too, and bit my lip. He was right. I didn't completely understand, and the part I did understand, I'd apparently forgotten. I had forgotten what it had felt like to be completely alone. To have lost everything. I grabbed my uncle's arm and headed for the door. "Y—you know where we'll..." I couldn't speak clearly enough to finish the sentence and closed the door behind us. "He...needs to be with Sam."

"But what if he..."

I shook my head and walked up to the Mustang, watching as Uncle Bobby made his way to his truck. "I don't think Page will let him," I said. And God, I didn't realize right then, exactly how right I was.

Or how much I would owe Page Fabrizzio.


	17. Beautiful Lie

I looked from Sam's body to Page, and watched as Grace made her way out the door with Bobby. They just...didn't get it. They really didn't. Sam was my responsibility. He was my little brother. The one thing my dad asked me to do—called it the most important—was to take care of Sammy. To do my job as a big brother. But that was what I did. I let people down, and I had just let it happen again. With Sam. And Page, too. I'd let her down by not giving her the chance to lead the life she deserved to with Sam. I felt a sob choking me, and I walked up to where Page was sitting with Sam's corpse. God, seeing him like this...I felt like dying. I remembered little Sammy. Eight year old Sammy who played Power Rangers in the backyard with little Page. And when they played cops and robbers, and when they'd come into the trailer with bumps and scrapes and I'd have to take care of them. I was willing to bet that neither of them remembered that. But I did.

I remembered making them ravioli surprise. The surprise was that it was three cans of Chef Boyardee with ripped up string cheese melted in and a little bit of grated cheese on top. But they never complained. Always asked me if when they were twelve, they'd be able to cook like me. They had been together...god, their entire lives. And just because I couldn't keep my promise to my dad, they were torn apart. I sat down beside Page and looked at Sammy as he lay there, completely motionless. Page didn't know what to think. What to say. But the silence was killing me. So I spoke up. "You know, when we were little—you couldn't been more than five—you just started asking questions…" I told him, feeling Page's eyes on me. I was sure she knew all about this, but...God, I just...needed to say something. "How come we didn't have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you—'Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don't want to know.'"

I had. I'd begged him to just let it be. But he'd always ask and ask. I bet, he figured it out because Page's family was always so normal. Because she had a mom and a dad who were usually there, and took care of him when he needed it, too. I laughed at that thought. Her family was always so good to him. "I just wanted you to be a kid...just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you...keep you safe...Dad didn't even need to tell me..." I shook my head. I had always known that Sam was my responsibility. That I was to look after him, keep him safe from everything. That was why, when I had to go, I knew that the Fabrizzio's was the best place for him. "It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I had one job...I had one job..." I stopped. One job. One. And I fucked it up royally. I felt Page's eyes on me, and blinked back the tears. She didn't need to see me cry. "And I screwed it up. I blew it. And for that, I'm sorry."

I wanted to explode. Wanted to just freak out and cry all over the place. Wanted to punch something. Wanted to...I don't even know. I didn't apologize for anything. It wasn't in my vocabulary. But, I did owe Sammy an apology, and I didn't care that Page had seen me give it. "I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. And now I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with that?" I asked, flashing Page a quick glance and biting my lip. I just wanted someone to tell me what I was supposed to do. I'd do anything. Anything at all. This was not Sam's fate. It wasn't, I didn't care who said it was. I'd fight them until I had no fight left in me. He was not supposed to die. He was supposed to live until he was old. Settle down with the woman of his dreams...I looked back at him. "Sammy. God. What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?!" I shouted and clenched my fists, hearing Page choke out a sob. She cried. For five minutes. Just tears. God, I had fucked up so badly this time. Her life. My life. Sammy's life.

And then, it dawned on me. What I had to do. I had to...yes. Sam's life was in my hands. I could get a good deal, I was sure of it. Five years. I could get it if I tried hard enough. I walked over to Page and put my hands on her shoulders, squaring her to me and looking into her eyes. She was a good woman, and she loved Sam. She could take care of him. "Page. Can you promise me something?" I asked her, watching as she stared at me blankly, but nodded her head. She didn't need to...understand. She just needed to agree. "Take care of Sammy…" I told her. She looked even more confused, and I realized that maybe she'd thought that I'd meant—no. "I'm gonna bring him back. Just…promise me you'll take care of him, okay?" she tried to stop crying, nodded her head, and I smiled a bit. "Good," I said, grabbing my keys from my pocket and heading out of the room.

I knew that Grace would be angry. And that Cadence would be...hurt. But, they'd gotten by for ten years without me. They didn't need me. Cadence had Piri, who was a damn good nanny. And Sam could be her father figure. God knows he was a better one than me. The girl would have three good female role models and her Uncle Sammy. She'd have it made. I put my hand on the door handle to the Impala when I heard Page calling out from behind me. "Dean, no…" I heard her say, and turned my head. "No, okay? I can't let you do this. Cadence and Grace—"

"...have done a fine job so far without me," I finished her sentence and reached for the door handle again. She wasn't going to stop me. She couldn't. I owed it to Sammy. I needed to...do this.

Page grabbed my arm and shook her head, turning me to face her. "No, Dean. No. You can't. You can't, okay? Just…no. I won't let you," she said, her tear-filled eyes pleading with me.

I shrugged a shoulder and put a hand on her arm, trying to calm her down a little bit. "Page, he's my brother, okay? He's my responsibility. You promised you'd take care of him so…" I told her simply. I didn't see where anything could go wrong. She'd take care of him, and they'd lead a happy life together, grow old and be happy. Where was the bad?

She tugged on my arm and stomped her foot, and for a second, I saw little Page again, when she and Sammy would get into their fights. "NO!" she shouted, reaching over and knocking the keys out of my hand, into the grass off to the side. "No! I WON'T LET YOU! I can't. Sam would hate me for it…" she said, letting go of my arm.

That wasn't her choice to make, though. Her opinion wasn't the important one in this. She wasn't the one giving her life for the greater good, so as far as I could tell, I got the final say as to what went on. I blinked back tears again and headed over to get the keys, and shrugged a shoulder. I was about to say...something. I don't even remember what. But I didn't get the chance, anyway, because the last thing I felt was a hard whack against the back of my head with I'm-not-even-sure-what, and I saw the ground coming up at me, fast...


	18. Always

"No. Daddy probably won't be in a good mood when we get there, you're right, sweetheart," I told Cadence, running a hand through my hair and watching as she cuddled close to Piri, who was still a bit numb. I hadn't been able to get her to talk before. But she'd just lost her best friend, so I supposed I wouldn't have been the most talkative, either. I'd gone back to the Salvage Yard, to Uncle Bobby's, and picked them up, then rushed us off to get back to Dean and Page. Because I didn't trust the two of them alone. Not that I thought there would be a recount of what I had heard about. But...they were—well, actually...we were all...grieving, and the most dangerous person is one who feels like they have nothing left to lose. I glanced in the rear view at Cadence, and realized that she would be the thing to bring Dean back to reality. Make him think that, maybe, all hope for the world wasn't lost. At least...I hoped.

Piri had tears streaming down her cheeks. She was so broken up. I knew that she'd grown to care about Sam. I guess I'd just never realized how much. But when I thought about it, the two of them always relied on one another...took a walk every couple of nights and tried to sort out thoughts and emotions. Did normal best friend things. It was...incredible to see Piri like that with someone, because I had known her for years. And I'd never seen her let anyone in as she had Sam. Not even me. Not even Cadence. Nobody. And now...she didn't have that someone anymore. The lump in my throat was beginning to choke me, when I pulled onto the backwoods trail that led to the cabin that was temporary housing for Dean, Page and Sam's body. I saw the cabin approaching in the distance, and sighed a bit. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, telling me that something big was happening. And that was when I noticed.

The Impala was gone. As I neared the cabin, I saw no black car, and a set of erratic tire tracks, heading away. And upon closer surveillance of the scene around me, I saw Dean, laying flat on the ground on his back a few yards away. I screeched to a halt, glanced into the rear view to be sure that I didn't jar Cadence too badly, then when I saw that she was okay, I hurried out of the car in a whirlwind and ran up to Dean. There was blood in a small pool on the ground underneath his head, and I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow, feeling the heat of tears streaming down my cheeks. "Dean? De—" Until I saw his chest rise and fall. And then, I finally gasped for a breath, realizing that it came out a little shakier than I'd planned. "Oh, thank God, he's still breathing..." I pondered how to wake him, without hurting him, and my eyebrow raised when I saw a small, folded letter sitting on his chest. "What's this?" I asked.

I picked it up and looked closer at it. "It's addressed to Sam..." I said, glancing at Piri, and the two of us exchanged worried, confused glances. "Sam, I don't know where to begin this, except to say that I love you, and that is why I…have to say goodbye," I paused, and that was when it dawned on me. What she had done. Sam was going to be absolutely wrecked. But that didn't explain...Dean. I continued reading. Maybe I'd get it. "You were always the only one for me, no matter what happened," I had to choke back a sob. Sam and Page...were made for one another. Dean knew it. He'd always told me about it. "Tell Dean that I'm sorry…he'll know what for," I looked at him. She was sorry? My eyes widened. She couldn't have meant that he was going to—of course she could have. It was a very Dean thing to do. Forget all about the rest of the world and just go into a—I breathed in deeply again. Tried to calm myself down. This was not to be done in front of Cadence. "...and tell Piri that I'm sorry, too. For misjudging her and for treating her badly."

I read on, noticing that Piri and Cadence were flashing me stares, wondering why I'd stopped. "Give Cadence that blue teddy of mine that she loves so much, too, okay?" I paused and looked at Cadence, feeling her nuzzle into my back and cry even harder. She realized what was going on—at least partially now, I think. She knew that she wasn't going to see Auntie Page anymore, but I don't think she fully understood why, or what was going to happen now. I kept reading. "And…tell Grace that I said thank you for being a good friend..." I felt an ache in my chest at that. We'd hated one another at first. But she really had become a good friend over the few months we knew one another. And now, I was going to be without that. I tried not to think of myself right then. It wasn't the time. "I love you, Sam Winchester. Your life is of more value to this world than mine. That I know for sure. Don't blame you for this, okay? And…get that bastard Jake. Yours always, Page..."

I looked away from the letter, just in time to see Piri take off in a run for the cabin. Good. It was best that she was there when Sam...woke up. Someone he trusted. I looked down at Dean. I was furious at him for even...thinking of doing what he'd wanted to do. But...I put myself in his shoes. What if it had been Cadence? What if Cadence had died? What would I have...God, I didn't even know. I put a hand on his face and ran my fingers along the skin. "Dean...wake up..." I whispered, putting a hand on his chest, mainly just to be sure that his heart was still beating. When I heard the calming th-thump, I let out a sigh of relief, and swallowed hard. Not that I wasn't going to kill him when he woke up...but it'd be okay. His eyes opened, and he looked at me. His eyes met mine and filled with tears, and...Christ, all I wanted to do was take the pain away. I was barely even angry anymore. Cadence walked around from behind me and knelt beside his head, biting her lip nervously.

He sat up quickly, then looked from left to right, practically ignoring Cadence and I. He looked at where the Impala had been, and then at me again. "Where's...where's Page?" he asked me, and he put his arm around Cadence when she seemingly clung to him. Well, at least there was that, and he hadn't totally forgotten that he was a dad. That there was a little girl who still needed him. "Wh-what's going on?" he asked me.

I stared at him for a second. God, how could I be mad at him? I had forgotten for a moment that all people grieved differently. "Dean...uh..." I thought for a second of the best way to say what I had to say. I still held the note that Page had left in my hand, and I offered it out to him, so he could look it over. See what she had done. And then I'd pick up the pieces of what would, no doubt, be Dean's broken heart. I watched as his eyes skimmed the note, and he stopped, I assumed when he got to his name, his eyes full of tears. And my eyes filled with tears, too, as Cadence wrapped her arms tighter around him, and he leaned his head into her shoulder, shuddering out a sob. He looked at the door and put a hand on Cadence's shoulder, letting her stand back a bit, and running toward the door like a man on a mission. I took Cadence's hand and nodded toward the door. "Let's go in, okay?" I asked, leading her to the door.

We walked into th cabin to see Dean hugging Sam, and Piri standing there helplessly, her face in her hands. I reached over and put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to me, burying her face. She just seemed to explode, and I hugged her, letting her cry, letting her lose control. She was hiding something, but I don't think she was ready to tell me what. I smoothed her hair back, and watched as Cadence hugged her around the waist. "Where's Page?" I heard Sam ask, and I felt Piri shuddering against my shoulder. I saw Dean turn and look at us, probably wondering who was going to tell Sam that the love of his life was dead. That he'd never see her again. Piri raised her head from my shoulder and nodded toward the door, signaling Dean, Cadence and I to walk outside. I watched as Dean was about to object, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door.

Dean jerked out of my grasp and sat on the front steps, putting his face in his hands and just crying. Just freaking out. I watched Cadence as she was about to walk up to him, but I stopped her. "Not yet, honey," I whispered to her. I think Dean just wanted to be alone right then. To think.

Cadence nodded. "Mommy...what's happening?" she asked me. "I thought...that Uncle Sammy was..." she paused and trailed off. And it became clear to me, right then, that no matter what she said, she didn't understand a lick of this. My poor little baby was going through so many different types of hell as a child. Hells many people my age hadn't experienced yet.

I leaned down and put a hand on her cheek. "Honey, Auntie Page...she...gave her life for Uncle Sammy's..." I paused. _And daddy's, but I don't think you need to know that. _I thought, with a glance sideways at Dean. "I'm not going to explain how, because it's complicated, and I don't think you're ready to know about that yet, but she did. And now..." I stopped. How could I explain this? I couldn't tell her that Page was going to live with the angels, because she wasn't. Quite the contrary, really. "...Uncle Sammy gets to stick around."

Cadence nodded again, and though half the time I thought her nods were just feigning that she actually understood, when in reality she was about as clueless as the rest of us, she humored me, since I'd told her that it wasn't time for her to know. She took a couple of steps forward and hugged Dean, and to my surprise, Dean, rather than freak out and get angry, embraced her and buried his face in her shoulder. I was proud of her, and Dean both. And I approached them slowly, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder, and watching as he turned to me slowly, tears streaming down his cheeks. I hugged him and Cadence both, showing my family that I loved them, and would be their rock if they needed me. And as we just sat there, sharing an embrace, I glanced up to see Uncle Bobby pulling in, in his truck. And Sam bust through the door behind us.

"PAGE!" he called out, and I heard Piri sob inside the cabin. "PAGE! WHERE ARE YOU? THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, to no one, and I turned around to see Piri's hand on his shoulder. He whirled around to face her, and Piri just...stood there, dazed. "Wh—where is she? Where is Page?"

Piri was about to speak up, but Uncle Bobby saved her the trouble. "Sam? What..." he looked over the lot of us, probably taking a head count, and his eyes widened. "Oh, God, Page. I saw the Impala about three miles from here and I was wondering what it was about but..."

Sam hurried right past Dean, Cadence and I, and to the Mustang. I didn't even need to be directed, simply got up and sat in the driver's seat, watching as the rest of them came in, and started the car, following Uncle Bobby to where the Impala was. And where...we were going to see Page. I hoped that, maybe, she got a good deal. Maybe there was hope. It was a quiet ride. Sam and Piri sat in the back with Cadence, and Dean and I sat in the front, and none of us said anything. Uncle Bobby pulled over, and I saw the Impala on the side of the road. Sam practically broke the door, flinging it open, and ran around the Impala, stopping dead and falling to his knees on the ground. Piri followed him, and knelt beside him, she shook a bit, and Sam pulled her to him, in a tearful hug. Dean walked up to them, and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam turned to Dean, and Piri rushed up to me, clinging to me and crying against my shoulder. "This—this is my fault, Grace. I..."

So, that was why she felt so guilty? I smoothed her hair back and tried to calm her down, tried to think of something, anything to say. "Piri, no. This is not your fault, okay?" I told her, shaking my head and pulling back from the hug to look at her face. "What we have to do? Is...get Jake. This is his fault. We have to make him pay, okay, Piri? Just listen to me..." I said, watching as she stared at me, doe eyed. "We're going to end Jake, okay? He tried to kill Sam. And he..." I frowned and looked at Uncle Bobby, who was moving Page's body now, and Piri's eyes followed mine. "We have to find him."

She pushed out of the hug and walked back toward Sam, as Dean turned toward Sam. Dean stared at me, as though I had all the answers, but I didn't. I looked over at Piri and Sam, who were just staring at Uncle Bobby as he moved Page's body, and talking. But, suddenly, Piri stood back up, and walked over to Dean and I again. She looked angry, and determined. And like she was about to kill someone. I was about to ask her what was going on, but she didn't give me the chance. Instead, she spoke in a harsh, abrupt and angry tone. "Teach me to hunt."

I looked at Dean in confusion, and bit my lower lip, watching as Cadence walked over to Sam to try and comfort him. My angel. She was such a grown up little girl. But I glanced back at Piri. At first, I was going to try and tell her no, but the look on her face was so...determined and hurt. Like another bit of bad news would make her burst into a thousand pieces. I swallowed hard and tried to think of a place to leave Cadence. Maybe Uncle Bobby and Ellen could work together and take care of her. I knew she'd be a little surprised, but eventually, she'd understand. "Okay..." I told Piri, watching as Sam put his face in his hands. I figured he'd...need her there. Dean looked at me, surprised, and I shook my head a bit, signifying that I had a plan. He bit his lip and nodded, turning to go talk to Sam and Cadence.

I put my arm around Piri. "Things will be okay. Eventually. I promise."

She nodded. "As soon as we kill that son of a bitch."


	19. Iris

I stood back a little bit, and watched helplessly as Sam said his goodbyes to Page as we buried her a little ways away from the cemetery in Eudora, Kansas. We'd marked the grave with a large, oddly shaped rock, which Cadence had painted a picture of the six of us on. The picture was precious. Dean, Sam, Page and I were hunting, while Piri and Cadence stood off to the side, safe and happy. And she told me that it represented how she felt. That the four of us had always kept she and Piri out of harms way, and that the smiles that she and Piri were wearing were indicative of the fact that they were proud of us. Only, she'd put it in ten year old terms.

The four of them stood up close to the grave I'd dug, Dean on one side and Piri on the other, Cadence standing in front of them, somewhat in between Sam and Piri. I couldn't even grasp how much these people meant to me. All of them, even the one they were putting in the ground. I tried to put them in order, but really, the only one I could think of was Cadence first. Because without Sam? Dean would be a mess and I knew that, so Sam was really quite important to me. Not to mention that he was the love of my life's brother, and felt like a younger brother to me. And Piri...god, the girl was...I watched as she buried her face in Sam's side, and Sam hugged her. I swear, I wanted to get to the bottom of what was making Piri feel so guilty. But I'd have time for that while the three of us trained her. Cadence walked away from the others, and up to me, flashing me a worried look. I wiped the tears in the corners of my eyes and knelt in front of her. It was time for me to explain what needed to happen.

I put my hand on her cheek and wiped a couple of her tears away. "Honey, mommy needs to talk to you, okay?" I asked, trying to hold back my own tears as I saw her cry. God, the look on her face when she cried...it killed me. "It's kinda important. It's about Piri. Well, and mommy and daddy and Uncle Sammy, too. And you."

She nodded and looked at Piri, a bit of concern crossing her face as she saw Dean and Piri start to fill in the grave, while Sam walked to the Impala, a heartbroken look on his face. "Okay, mommy. What's wrong?" she asked, looking away from Sam, and back at me, worry and confusion spreading across her face.

I smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "You remember meeting Aunt Ellen, right?" I asked her, and she nodded. "You liked her, didn't you? And Jo and Ash?" I asked her, and she nodded again. I sighed. What was the best way to tell your daughter that the only people who had always been there for her, for ten years, weren't going to anymore? I couldn't say no to her, but I couldn't say no to Piri, either. Also, I realized that maybe, with Ellen, Jo and Ash was the place for her. Uncle Bobby was nearby and I'd always call and make sure she was okay. "Do you think...well, actually, I think I'm going to have to make you..."

She looked at Piri and said, "Piri's gonna go hunt with you guys, isn't she? So I have to stay with Aunt Ellen at the Roadhouse?" she asked, and once again, I was amazed by the maturity of my ten year old daughter, since her expression didn't hold a hint of anger. Not even repressed. Or confusion, anymore. She understood so much of what was going on, never questioned, never got angry.

I nodded and bit my lip. I swear, I was the luckiest mother on the planet. "Yes..." I told her. "But, I think, before we go, you, me and daddy should go tell Uncle Sammy that he's your Uncle. Don't you?" I asked her, and she looked at Dean, who still looked torn up about this whole situation. "Um, can you go check on Piri for a second? While I go talk to daddy?"

She nodded and kissed me on the cheek, smiling a little bit and heading over to try and make Piri smile, no doubt. Because as well as being the most mature ten-year-old I had ever seen, she was also as sweet as a cupcake. I sighed, stood up, brushed my knees off and approached Dean with a bit of trepidation. I wasn't sure how he'd react to this. There was one of two ways. He would get furious, and argue with me until no tomorrow or he would reluctantly agree. I ran a hand through my hair. "Dean?"

One thing I didn't expect, however, was that there was a third option. Dean looked at me and then at the Impala, and before I got a chance to say anything else, he spoke. "I think we should tell Sammy about Cadence, Grace..." he said, and I think my jaw fell open. "Maybe it'll give him a bit of hope, you know? God knows he needs it..."

I looked at him, just stared in awe for a second at how in sync our minds always seemed to be, and grabbed his shoulders, squaring him to me and pressing my lips to his. I didn't know what had prompted it, or why I did it, but it just...felt like the right thing to do in that moment. And when he dropped the shovel and put his hands on my waist, I was reassured that I wasn't horribly wrong. I looked into his eyes and shuddered out a breath. God. So many years, and Dean Winchester could still twist my chest into a pretzel with a kiss. I almost said it in that moment. The thing I'd only said to one person, other than Cadence, in my life. Almost said it to that same person twice. I almost told Dean Winchester that I loved him. Again. I did. I knew that, and I wasn't fighting it in my head anymore. But, the last time I'd said it aloud, we'd been torn apart. And in the dangerous state we were in right then? Being stalked by a vengeful demon who thought Sam was dead and had a bounty on Piri's head now? This was not the time to be endangering one another. So, I just let it be and nodded my head. "I think...that would be a good idea," I told him.

I may not have vocalized it, but I did love him. With every bit of my heart that wasn't dedicated to Cadence, I loved him. I didn't know if he knew it, but...part of me thought he did. All that I knew was that if it wasn't for Dean? I wouldn't be able to be as together as I was about everything that was going on.


	20. I, Alone

I sat silently on the sidelines, on the bed that Grace and I were supposed to share, as Grace called Sam's attention. I wasn't sure how he'd react to this. We'd all lied to him. All of us. Even Page. But Sam...he was the one out of all of us who would be most likely to take the whole 'having a young niece back at the hotel' thing and have it cloud his judgment on the job. Grace could handle the psychological aspect of it. And well, too. She was good at hiding her emotions when faced with demons and spirits who could get into your mind. But there were still some things that got to Sammy, a lot more that they should. And knowing about Cadence? Knowing that she was related to him? It would definitely alter his state of mind. Sam was a family guy. He really was. And not the fat type you see on TV with weird neighbors. He'd do anything for those he considered family. Even dad, when he was alive. But now that Cadence was going to be well taken care of, and away from us while we hunted, it was safe to tell him. Grace knelt on the floor in front of Sam, and Cadence sat on the bed beside him.

Piri was outside. She had said that she didn't want to be there when this happened. She'd been acting very strangely since this whole thing had gone down. Sure, we had all been acting strangely. But Piri most of all. We expected the reaction we got from Sam, Grace was the rock as usual, Cadence was being her amazing self...and I...was confused, as per standard. But Piri, who normally had a greeting card thought for every situation like this, was as blank as a fresh piece of paper, and it was really freaking the rest of us out. Piri always had some sort of comfort for the rest of us, but...she was acting like she had something to hide. And when Sam would look at her, she'd practically burst out in tears. I had never seen anyone so guilty over something that wasn't their fault before. But it was definitely guilt she felt.

Part of me wondered what had gone on, but neither she or Sam were talking about it, so I figured it was one of those 'psychic to psychic' things that us non-special people wouldn't get. I glanced at Grace as she thought through how to word things. "Sam..." she stopped for a second and looked at Cadence, then back at Sam. "Listen, I know this probably isn't the best time to tell you something that we've been hiding. And for the bad timing, I'm sorry. But it needs to be told..." she looked at me, and my face fell. I'd kept it from him for too long, really. I looked at the floor, and listened to the rest of the conversation. "Cadence...um, well...all right, there's really nothing else but to say it. She's your niece, Sam," she said quickly. "Dean's her father, and she's your niece."

Sam wasn't saying anything, at all. He hadn't since we'd buried Page, either. I looked up and saw that he was staring at Grace blankly. Like he wasn't sure what to think. Like he wasn't even sure if he believed what was being said. I sighed and walked up behind Grace, putting my hands on her shoulders. "It's true, Sammy," I told him, watching as his eyes turned from Grace and looked up at me, a mix of sadness and confusion mixing in them. I think he was hurt. And that was to be expected. He looked at Cadence and raised an eyebrow, and I think the connectors in his brain put two and two together. I watched his gaze fall to the floor. The guy...didn't even have any words. And for Sam, who could use words as a weapon, that was a huge deal.

Grace bit her lip. "We didn't tell you, because we knew that...of all of us..." she paused. We were essentially telling him that he was weak. How did you tell someone that they were the weakest link in a group of six people? It felt like we were voting him off the island in Survivor or something like that. "...that you'd be the one who was...most likely to...let it get to you..." she finished what she was saying, and Sam's head turned toward her again, as though what she was saying stung. But sometimes, the truth stung more than any sugar coating could. I glanced at the sliding glass door, where Piri sat on the back stoop, staring out at nothing. I looked at Grace, who looked at me and bit her lip. The two of them...they were taking this unbelievably hard. Sam, I understood. But with Piri, she was just blaming herself for things she couldn't control. Grace looked outside, looking as though she wanted to go out and find out what the hell Piri's problem was.

We had two people here who wouldn't talk. Which likely meant that when they finally did, they'd end up exploding. I didn't want Cadence to have to see that. Which was part of the reason I had agreed to let her stay with Ellen. That and she'd end up being trained for an attack by some of the best. And she would always be safe. No one at that roadhouse would let a single demon or evil spirit lay their hands on her. I looked outside at Piri once again. How was she going to handle hunting, if she couldn't handle this? She desperately needed training, and I was glad that Grace, Sam and I—or, at least Grace and I, were going to be the ones giving it. I looked back at Sam. "Are you okay?"

He shrugged feebly, and looked at Cadence. I turned my attention to Grace for a second, and she flashed me a glance that suggested that she had an idea. "Dean? Can...you go talk to Piri?" she asked me. "For just a minute?" she nodded toward the sliding glass door, and I flashed her a look of confusion. It looked like she expected me to get to the bottom of whatever was eating the girl. And I didn't know how I was supposed to do that, when I didn't even hardly know her. I looked at Piri again, and showed Grace a gaze filled with confusion, wondering what the hell she wanted me to do here. But as usual, Grace had something in mind. "I think, maybe, talking to someone who hasn't made their judgment as to...who she is...yet? Might help. Might get her to open up. She needs to...talk to someone," she whispered to me.

I was going to object, but Grace was almost always right about these kinds of things. So, I nodded my head and headed to the sliding glass door, opening it slowly, and taking another glance over my shoulder at Grace, who was sitting Indian-style in front of Sam, now. I closed the door behind me and approached Piri slowly. What was I supposed to say? "Hey..." I called her attention, and watched as she turned around, wiping her eyes. She waved meekly, and I took a seat next to her on the stoop. "You all right?"

She nodded falsely, and I flashed her a knowing gaze. It would take an idiot not to see that she wasn't okay. "I'll be all right, yeah. I just..." she trailed off, and looked at the grass in front of her.

I looked at her. Shoulders slumped, back slouched, cheeks stained with tears, lips in a perpetual frown...the girl was a wreck. Grace was right about one thing. She did need someone to talk to. And even if I hadn't passed a judgment as to whether she was...anything, I knew one thing. She was a nice person, and she helped Sam feel good, most of the time. "You can talk to me, you know. I mean, I may not be the best at giving advice...that's definitely Grace, but...I have ears. And I've done some shady stuff in my life, so have no right whatsoever to be judgmental."

She bit her lip and raised her eyes from the grass, to look at me. Her eyes were full of tears. God, the weight that the poor girl was carrying was huge. "I..." she shuddered a breath. "I don't want you to hate me..." she whispered, casting her eyes to a nearby building.

Hate her? How could I hate the girl who had kept my daughter safe from harm for nine years? How could I hate the girl that Grace seemed to have so much faith in? I shook my head at her. "I won't. Whatever it is? You can tell me. I promise, I won't judge you or hate you..."

She looked briefly at me, and then into the hotel room. I followed her gaze, and noticed that Grace and Cadence, being the amazing people that they are, had gotten Sam to open up, and he was now crying against Grace's shoulder. His lips were moving, too, so he was finally speaking. That was...amazing. I looked at Piri again. "I..." she swallowed hard, and it looked like she was trying to stop more tears from coming out. "I could have...prevented all this from happening..." she said, her voice squeaking toward the end, and she brought her hands to her face. I was about to ask why, but she just let it all go, exploding with emotion. "I...had a vision. Of what happened. I saw it...before it happened, and...I had the chance t-to kill him...but I couldn't. I was...too...I was scared. I didn't...know how," she shouted, her her face twisting in anger and frustration. "That's why..." she looked at me. "That's why I wanted to learn to hunt. So I can...protect myself. And Sam. I want you to teach me to..." she sniffled. "...to do all this."

I tried to grasp what was being said. So, she felt responsible because she'd had one of her psychic visions of this guy stabbing Sam in the back, and she hadn't killed him when she had the chance. It made sense, but...why she thought we'd blame her for it? That didn't, so much. I put an arm around her, pulling her to me and hugging her. "It's okay..." I said, watching as she buried her head into my shoulder, and feeling her shake it 'no.' "Yes. It is. You couldn't be expected to know what to do, Piri. Listen. I don't blame you. Neither will the rest of them, if you tell—"

"I know. I just..." she pulled back from my shoulder and looked at me. "I don't know how to tell Sam. I...I don't want him to hate me..." she shook her head. "I don't keep secrets...keeping this, even for this long has killed me. But...this...I don't know how I'm supposed to tell Sam that...essentially, I'm—" she paused, as if an idea was sinking into her brain. "I'm the reason the love of his life is d-dead..." she ran a hand through her hair, pulling the long, black strands from her face. "I'm the reason. It's...my fault. Oh my God..."

I didn't know what I was supposed to say. Was I supposed to tell her that it wasn't? It wouldn't work, anyway. When someone had something like that dug deep into their head, I knew firsthand that it was impossible to get rid of it. But, it wasn't her fault. Maybe she needed to hear that. "It's not, Piri. I know that it's not. Grace will, too. And Cadence. And in time, so will Sam. You...have to trust in the fact that..."

She nodded and buried her face in my shoulder again, letting the tears come out. I leaned my head against hers and smoothed her hair back. The poor girl was...going through hell in her head. I knew Sam would be mad, at first. If not mad, then hurt. Piri was a good person. Moral and just, honest and she didn't care who she lost by being honest. And it seemed like, the first time that it mattered, she could lose her best friend. I sighed and said the only thing that was on my mind. The only thing I could think of that could possibly make things better. "I'm sorry."

I knew that words weren't enough. Not right then. But they were all I had. And for Piri, who pulled back from the hug, wiped her eyes and tried to smile, at least a little, they seemed to be enough. And in that second, I figured out that there were three reasons that Grace had sent me out to talk to Piri. She knew, in the back of her mind, that I could get her to open up. That was one. Two was so that she could get Sam to unload everything. And three was so that I would see how good of a person Piri Sullivan was. And all of them had worked. Yes, Grace Desrosiers was a woman beyond compare.


End file.
